Love Must Come: Rebirth
by Princess-Xion
Summary: RoXion; A girl who starves the demons out. A boy who drinks the demons in. Sometimes, when two broken people come together, healing can come hand-in-hand with sorrow. Eating disorders. Abuse. Sexual abuse. Sexual content. Drugs. Alcohol. Rated M. ***CHAPTER 15 UPDATED***
1. Chapter 1

**UPDATE: July 2, 2014! So I decided to reupload this story, because a few of my readers wanted me to. I'm not expecting any reviews (Unless you're a brand new reader, in which case, you can leave a review if you'd like to!), this story is being reuploaded mostly because it's to tide my readers over since my updates on Finding Hikari and Tears on the Runway are so far apart. Also, I may be putting this story through a bit of a re-write as well. Mostly Xion's character. It needs to undergo some serious strengthening because she is WEAK in this story. She will also be Korean now instead of Japanese, since the story itself is based on a Korean poem. Anyway, enjoy! There's quite a few changes I've made throughout this chapter.**

**This is for you, AngelsThatFall, since you asked me looooong ago to reupload and I told you no like a poophead~**

**NOTE – Xion's last name is Hicks because when her mother married Xion's stepfather, they all took his last name lol.**

**A/N: Welcome to my newest story, a recycling of old ideas and constant goals. Forewarnings: There will be blood, sex, violence, abuse, and more things of that nature in this story. It is rated M. Also, there will be just a tad bit of RikuxXion later in the fic, but don't worry—it won't last long, and you'll hate him by the end of it. Anyway, enjoy.**

**EDIT: This is the edited version of this first chapter. :)**

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**Chapter One – Shaking Hands and Endless Dreams**

_Xion's POV_

_O-neun cheong-i I-sseo-ya ka-neun cheong-i it-tta—"Love must come before it can go"._

Once, when I was younger, my mother taught me a Korean saying that at the time had made absolutely no sense to me. Before the events of my Senior year, I had never given a thought to any of the lessons she had taught, as I was just your typical rebellious 13-year-old. I spent my nights drinking _soju _and dancing with older boys at Korean nightclubs with my friends in Seoul (illegally, of course). Had I known that my time with my mother was to be ripped violently from beneath my feet like an overflowing river, I would have a considerably less amount of regrets.

We never take the time to enjoy our loved ones and our life at age 13, do we? We think we're invincible and that death is a tale for other unfortunates. We believe in silly fantasies and dreams: that love is an endless ocean, and that bad things only happen to bad people. As if getting older isn't hard enough . . . Being forced to grow up, awaken, and smell the roses before you even turn 18 is an adventure worth taking in the long run, but a harder journey to experience on a short-term basis.

Basically, the world was changing more rapidly around me than I had ever been told it would, and I was nowhere near prepared.

My mother died on June 13th, 2011. To say it was devastating would be an understatement. It was as if with the doctor's pronouncement, she took with her my soul and my capability to be happy. Life was just as pointless as it seemed to be, and the regrets it brought were endless. I blamed myself for everything—every missed call, every argument, every rebellion, every lie . . . Maybe if I had just gone to school and gotten straight A's like a good girl, she would be out in her garden right now rather than lying dormant six feet underneath South Korean soil. Maybe she'd be tucking me into bed and kissing my forehead, despite my protests that I was "too old for bedtime kisses." Perhaps if she had lived, my stepfather wouldn't have turned into a totally different person, beating any last ounce of hope out of me, as if it were his sole mission in life to cause me as much physical pain as he felt emotionally. Still, I wished and dreamed and hoped, even if it got me another broken bone or shove into the wall.

When the drunken midnight visits began, I kept my desperate desire for a better life in the off chance that things might change. Though the only thing that could heal the gaping void in my life was my mother's gentle touch, my stepfather seemed to think that his version of a "gentle touch" would fill the void in his _own_ soul as he hid from his demons in my bed. And though he had enough sense not to outright de-virginize me, he tried his damn best to satisfy his sick, twisted hopes and dreams and wishes with his hands down my pants. Just hearing him panting and groaning as he forced me to touch him nightly was enough to make my very heart ill with shame, embarrassment, and self-hatred.

I often forgot to eat in the beginning, becoming so disoriented in the midst of my despair at the loss of my mother, that the thought of food or hunger became as meaningless as a pen without ink. It soon progressed, mingling with my self-hatred and serving only to make me hate the person I saw in the mirror. _"I just miss my mommy"_ became _"I'm useless and fat";_ _"It'll all get better with time to heal"_ morphed into _"I don't deserve to eat. I'm a worthless, obese pig."_ A girl at a solid, healthy weight of 130 pounds soon became a girl at 125 pounds, then 120, followed by 115 . . . Before I knew it, the scale read 100 pounds, and I was five-foot-three-inches tall. My thoughts of my mother had now become dark, obsessive thoughts of calories, fasting, and incessant hunger.

Still, I hoped . . . And I wished . . . And I dreamed that someday, things would change. Maybe, just maybe, God hadn't completely abandoned me to Satan's maw.

x-x-x

Shimmering rays of golden sunlight filtered in through the gauzy curtains that shielded the sliding glass doors of my balcony, warm rays of California's best asset warming my bony back. A tiny yawn escaped my lips, and I rolled over to greet the dawn. As I sat up, my black as ink hair fell forward around my upper arms, the soft ends lightly caressing my elbows as if to remind me of the gentleness of a morning breeze. My eyes, shaped like bamboo leaves and as blue as the cerulean sky, opened to gaze upon the way the rising sun hailed the interior of my immaculately clean, expensively furnished bedroom.

Gifts given to initiate forgiveness.

I stretched my arms upward, arching my back simultaneously, and then immediately regretted it as the newly-made cuts upon my forearms pulled apart and screamed in protest. I winced, but made no moves to soothe my wounds. I deserved to feel that same pain in my heart for being the worthless human being I was.

With those spirit-dampening thoughts, I dragged myself gingerly out of bed and prepared myself to get ready for the first day of the second week of the worst school year I had ever experienced.

In the shower, I was as careful as possible with my frail, abused body. For it had seen more pain in the past three months than it ever had before, and it was the only thing I had left that was mine and mine alone (though I didn't know for how long). My 17th birthday just a few days past seemed to be the only calm in the storm, my stepfather's gift to me being to leave me in peace for one Godforsaken night. However, every day before and every day after, I tread on tiptoe. Any wrong step earned me a slap, punch, or kick that split my skin as easily as if it were made of paper. And perhaps I _was _made of paper—strong enough to hold itself together until something stronger comes to rip it in two. So in the shower, the only place where I had sole control over what happened to my body, I treated myself like gold. I washed and cleaned every last cut and gingerly massaged every muscle as if my shaking hands could whisk the pain away to some other dimension.

It was also only in the shower that I gave myself utterly and completely over to my emotions, allowing myself to wallow in my misery and woe as crystalline tears encasing my sadness mingled with the water on my cheeks. I cried bone-wracking, gut-wrenching sobs for many things, including my mother, but the greatest loss I mourned was the loss of my innocence, ignorance, and naïveté to the horror that the world had bestowed upon me. Shower times were the only moments of freedom that I had to cry without being told to do otherwise—without being struck down and told to "quit sniveling."

My shower ran long today, my tears being egged on by the voice in my head that told me how little I was valued. How could anyone ever want to be around me? I was a nuisance, and I imposed on everyone's lives. I was an eyesore. A fat, disgusting, and repulsive eyesore. Why was _I _the one still alive? Why couldn't it have been _me_ who had died instead? My mother was kind, beautiful, gentle . . . Everything I _wasn't_. I was a bad, useless thing.

So why had she passed away, and not me?

After my shower, I could barely stand. I was exhausted from crying and weak from the lack of nutrition. I wanted to eat, but I knew I didn't deserve food, and as I turned to gaze upon my naked flesh in the bathroom mirror, that thought process was only confirmed to my sad, sorrowful eyes. I drew my fingertips across collarbones that danced a delicately-defined dance of misery; hipbones that jutted out like anguished cliffs; a concave stomach that cried out at its eternal emptiness—all things that my irrational mind refused to accept. I was fat, plain and simple.

I saw no collarbones, hipbones, or ribs. My stomach fell upon itself in hideous, sagging rolls. My thighs chafed as they rubbed together in the mirror, even though the two inch gap between my bony, near-skeletal legs was clear to see by anyone with a pair of working eyes (maybe my eyes didn't quite work . . . ?). I longed for the day when I no longer wished to rake my nails viciously across my bruised flesh—for a day when I realized that my body was beautiful. That _I _was beautiful. However, I didn't see that day coming anytime soon, especially not when the mirror screamed at me like a wild animal.

I dressed slowly, unable to find anything that I felt I looked remotely presentable in. Everything accentuated my obesity; everything drew attention to my ugly body and its infinite rolls of fat.

Of course, this was normal. I spent an hour total each day picking out my outfit, and I usually ended up crying on the closet floor and settling for the first thing I had initially chosen. Today was no different. I slowly slid myself into a pair of ankle-length blank leggings and a maroon V-neck, paying no heed to the fact that I wore a size extra small in both. To me, size meant nothing compared to the number on the scale, and this morning, the number had read a disgusting 107.

That's what I got for binging all night on my birthday a few days ago.

After blow-drying and flat ironing my waist-length charcoal-black tresses, I ran my fingers through it to make it look tousled and volumized. As a final touch, I swept a silvery white shimmer stick along the lower lashline of each of my eyes, dabbed some peach lip tiny onto my lips, puffed a rosy pink blush onto my cheeks, and clasped on a simple silver necklace with a diamond star pendant. I stared at myself while I struggled not to punch my reflection in the glass, and then turned and left my bedroom.

I entered the kitchen after pulling on my favorite pair of brown combat boots. They zipped up the insides, and were adorned with four bronze buckles that traveled up the outside for decoration. Flat-soled, they were comfortable and perfect to wear daily to school. I stopped in front of the fridge, my hand poised before the door handle as I fought the daily inner battle I had every morning. There was a note from my stepfather posted there, apologizing for hitting me and promising that it would never happen again. I rolled my eyes. The bastard was _the_ master of lies and empty promises. With every apology came an extra beating; with every empty promise, I was put through Hell tenfold. I shuddered to think about what most likely awaited me that night, and turned resolutely away from the fridge.

I wouldn't eat today, and I would start with a simple glass of water.

I crossed the white linoleum and downed my water in a heartbeat, my cerulean irises fixated on the beautiful acres of land that stretched out past the window.

Our mansion was large and just as beautiful as the land, but it seemed to pale in comparison to the beauty of the bosom of Mother Nature that was our backyard. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket—an _iphone 5s_, and my birthday present from my stepfather that I knew he would expect a very grateful thank you for one of these nights—and checked the time. I still had a few minutes before I needed to leave for school. It was plenty of time to fish my writing notebook out of my school bag and jot down a few elegant lines to help me forever capture the beauty of the lush green grass, the vibrant oak trees that stretched up toward the sky, and even the small pond that was home to five or six exotic Koi fish.

My lyrics were a type of prose that was dark, sad, and almost poetic in nature. It made me very sad to delve deep into my heart and write about my pain, yet it was all that had kept me sane these past few months since my mother's recent passing. Even if it was just to write a single sentence, every time I wrote was a type of therapy in and of itself, and it wasn't something I planned to ever give up. My goal was to one day turn my grief-filled words into recorded song, but I saw myself as so useless that I kept convincing myself that dreams like that were futile, and as infinitely meaningless as the grains of sand on all the Earth's beaches.

x-x-x

_Roxas's POV_

I liked to be left alone, but nobody I was acquainted with ever seemed to respect that aspect of my personality. More often than not, when I told my so-called "friends" that I was going to go outside to smoke by myself, half of them followed me out. They prattled on and on about stupid things I honestly couldn't care less about, for I usually had more pressing matters on my mind than a class project or cute girls, or anything else frivolous. No matter how many times I told them I wanted to have time to myself, they just never seemed to comprehend that "alone" was a word that meant "being completely by oneself."

Perhaps this would be the last time I hung out with them.

Currently, I was stomping out my lunchtime cigarette on the concrete outside the cafeteria, trying my best to tune out my classmates' incessant chatter. I watched the embers glow orange beneath my black _Toms_ shoes, and I felt jealous. At least the glowing ashes disappeared so quickly that they didn't have to listen to the shit coming out of my "friends'" mouths.

"Holy shit, you guys," one friend (some guy I never bothered to remember the name of) cried loudly, absolutely demanding all attention with his tone. "Fucking did you _hear_?!"

Instantly, there was a loud chorus of "no," followed by silence.

Blessed silence~!

The friend went on to explain about someone who we all knew quite well. A person that I knew even better than anyone else. A person that I despised more than I could ever hope to explain.

Namine Lightle.

"Well, apparently Namine Lightle is up for the solo in the Winter Chorus concert, so she's throwing a huge ass Halloween party to celebrate being chosen," the friend informed us. "She's telling everyone that her parents are so sure she'll be selected for the solo that they're letting her have the whole mansion to herself for the night _and _they're paying for everything."

I listened quietly, only faintly interested. I was no stranger to Namine's ragers, seeing as we had dated for five years. She'd been my first girlfriend in seventh grade, and her personality had been so controlling that I'd gotten myself stuck in her witchy clutches until I turned eighteen this year and woke the Hell up. I has suddenly seen all of her imperfections: her mean-spirited views, the spiteful things she did to her own friends, the nasty rumors she spread about the people she hated, and the smug, spoiled way she had controlled my feelings for her. Once, I would have killed for that girl. Now . . . Now, I would much rather see her dead, I disliked her that much.

Well . . . Scratch that. I guessed she didn't deserve to _die_. I supposed I was better off thinking that I'd rather see her go far, far, _far _away.

"So how's the guest list looking?" another friend asked the first one. "School only just started a few weeks ago. There's still like a month and a half until Halloween . . . Is she inviting people yet?"

"Not yet," the first friend replied, taking a drag off of his cigarette. "I was told she was just getting people excited. She's probably gonna invite the whole Senior class, I would suspect, plus whoever's popular in the other grades."

They continued to talk, but I didn't hear them. There was no way I could have heard them, for all of my attention had been drawn away to someone that I had found myself fixated upon since she'd transferred into my AP English class.

She was wearing a simple outfit and were it not for her height, she could have passed for an Asian supermodel. Her charcoal-black hair hung in silken strands to her lower back, fluttering behind her in the wind as she bustled across the courtyard to the Library. She was from Korea, and nobody seemed to know much else about her. She kept to herself, mostly, and she only spoke when she was asked to in class. I hadn't taken any real interest in a girl since I'd broken up with Namine this Summer, finding the temporary pleasures of the flesh to be an easier way to guard my heart.

Man, did the new girl appeal to me though, much to my puzzlement. Sure, she was ridiculously adorable and had these exotic blue eyes that made me think of the ocean, but there were lots of other girls who were just as gorgeous, if not more so. Perhaps it was something about the way she carried herself—as if she bore the weight of a thousand sorrows upon her back, bearing them with the dignity of an ancient goddess. The prospect of meeting her and one day seeing a smile light up those guarded azure eyes of hers was enough to pique my curiosity.

Before the end of the week, I vowed that I would know her name.

One of my other friends elbowed me in the side, snickering as he did so, and I mentally kicked myself. He'd seen me looking at the new girl, and I was willing to bet I'd never hear the end of _this _one. Unless I stopped hanging out with these idiots, which I was highly inclined to do.

"Don't think we didn't see you looking at her," the friend who'd elbowed me smirked. "You've got the googly eyes for the fish face, don't you?"

I scowled and leaned back against the brick wall of the school, picking at a loose thread in the leg seam of my black skinny jeans. I hated anyone knowing what I was thinking, let alone any of these assholes knowing who I was interested in. I may have called them my friends, but honestly, it was for lack of a better word. These kids weren't any more my friends than the sky is green.

I mean, _fish face_? _Really_? It was September 2014, and this guy was acting like he'd never seen an Asian before. Nevermind the fact that _I _was Korean. Did he think that _I _was a fish face? Fuck, I was 1,000% done with these guys.

"Tch," I snorted, gazing off after her as she neared the double doors to the Library. "It's no big deal; I just think she's hot."

My "friends" laughed knowingly.

"Then she'd better watch out," one said conspiratorially. "When you've got your eyes on a girl, she's usually in bed with you by the end of the night. Your reputation is notorious, Roxas."

I couldn't help but smirk at _that_ one. It was true.

"What can I say?" I allowed myself to grin wickedly at them as I spread my arms wide. "I like the ladies."

The bell then rang, signaling that lunch was over. Sighing, I realized that the end of lunch meant the end of what little freedom they gave us during the school day. I was awarded the least amount of freedom, however. Being the troublemaker I was, I had landed myself the punishment of the year mere seconds after the first bell of the second day of the school year. It was my Senior year, and I'd already fucked up.

"Have fun in Choir, Rox," one friend said, lagging behind as students filed from the courtyard and the Library back toward the Cafeteria doors, their happy talking echoing in the air. The friend placed a hand on my shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows. "Use those golden fingers well~!"

I glared at him. He took the hint to get away, and fast. Not only was I notorious for being a bit of a "ladies' man" in school, but I was also known around town as someone you did _not _want to mess with. Most of the rumors spread about me were due to my past, but I liked to think that my past left me when I ended my relationship with Namine. Though I had severed ties with her and all of my old life, it seemed that some old habits died hard . . . My infamous hot temper wasn't showing any signs of cooling down any time soon. To say that I "liked a good fight" would be an understatement. "I liked to cause pain to those who pissed me off" would be a better definition of how I dealt with my issues.

As for the "golden fingers" comment, my friend had been referring to not only my hidden talent, but also the thing about myself I had taken great pains to obscure until I'd managed to get myself into trouble.

I had been playing piano since I was five years old, as my family was Korean and rather strict about taking up extracurriculars at a young age. I'd always had a passion for it, since I had immediately taken an intense liking to it, and I liked to practice for hours in my living room at home even to this day.

Now, I hadn't _planned _on ever letting anyone see that I had such a hobby, until I'd gotten myself sent to the Principal's office and had seen my irate mother sitting in a cushioned velvet chair in his office. Amidst their disappointed, angry lecturing, my mother alternated berating me in Korean and apologizing to the Principal for my incompetence and immaturity. I was a Senior this year and eighteen years old—fighting on school campus would not be tolerated, and I was going to need to be properly disciplined for the entire school year. Those were the Principal's judgments, to which my mother whole-heartedly agreed, and things just seemed to go downhill from there. My mother swore she was going to tell my father about the fight I'd started with a rather annoying tenth grader, told the Principal she couldn't understand why I wasn't as passionate about my studies as I was about the piano, and it was done. The Principal made me fill my only free period (right after lunch) with Choir, where I was to play the piano for their practices and concerts.

In short, I was screwed. Choir was an extremely popular class in our school since you had to try out for it, and only the best singers were a part of the group. However, I hated it for another reason. Not only was everyone going to find out I played the piano like Beethoven's son, but guess who the fuck was in that class period?

Namine Lightle.

It was kind of hard to avoid someone who believed they owned you when you were forced to be in a class with them for your entire twelfth grade year.

Anyway, long story short, I'd been going for a few weeks now and it wasn't _so_ bad. The teacher was strict and didn't allow any side conversations during class. There was no time for Namine to make advances on me, and I got to do what I loved to do: play the piano. The teacher, Mrs. Waldemeier, had taken a liking to one of the songs I had composed myself, and had decided to use it for the main solo in the Winter concert. She had written lyrics to it, and was currently doing tryouts for it daily. Hundreds of kids had turned out to audition, some of them not even enrolled in Choir, seeing as the Winter concert was usually the biggest concert of the year. It involved the whole town, and was done on a stage at the Christmas Carnival downtown, by the beach. Whoever got this solo had to be _damn _good.

I wasn't surprised that Namine thought she'd get the solo. She really _did _have a pretty voice. It wasn't very powerful, but it was ethereal and soft, and she could carry a tune like nobody's business. She hit all the high notes with perfect clarity, and was the top Soprano in the entire school district. Needless to say, I would definitely believe it if Namine was awarded the solo.

The only problem?

Whoever got the solo would be spending a _lot _of time practicing the song outside of school with me over the next couple of months. If Namine got the solo, not only would it be her twisted dream come true, but I didn't know how well I could hold up my careful walls around her. I may have broken up with her, but the reasons why I had stayed with her so long were clear: I loved her once and I loved her still, and the only way I was going to get over her was to stay the Hell away from her.

The Principal's punishment certainly wasn't making things any easier at all.

Nevertheless, I had to be on time for class, or else Mrs. Waldemeier was going to paint the keys of her piano with my blood.

x-x-x

_Xion's POV_

I gazed at the handle to classroom door with my slim hand poised above it, frozen in fear. I had just gotten back from switching classes at the Administration office after finding out that Sculpture just wasn't the right class for me. After lots of thought, I had overcome my initial fears at joining Choir, and had asked to be switched in. I hadn't sung since my mom died. She had always told me that my voice was a gift to her from God, for birthing a child so perfect and lovely to her. Why would I bestow that gift upon other's ears if she was gone now?

But I _loved_ to sing. I _loved_ music. I loved the rhythm, the tune, the _beauty_ . . . I needed music to survive just as much as I needed my writing. My mother had not only believed my voice was a gift to her, but she had also believed that it was a gift for all. She would have wanted me to continue pursuing my dreams, wouldn't she?

I gulped, knowing that Choir was a class for the outgoing. It was extremely hard to get in to, and when I had tried out the night before in front of only the teacher, she had told me just as much. She had also told me that in order for the audition into the Choir to be fair, I had to try out in front of the other students like everybody else had. She'd talked to the Principal and agreed to give me a spot just so long as I promised to play things fair and do it her way. I'd agreed, since Sculpture was really _not_ my cup of tea, and here I was.

I was petrified.

I heard laughter behind me that cut off into an abrupt clearing of someone's throat.

Startled, I turned to look over my shoulder and stifled a gasp. I was staring directly into the baby blue eyes of _the _most popular girl in school and also the most celebrated singer in the Choir: Namine Lightle. Her silken blonde hair was cut in face-framing layers that fell just past her shoulders, her angelic features twisted into an annoyed sneer as she looked at me.

"You're in my way," she snapped. Her best friends stood to either side of her, giving me glares that could melt icebergs.

"Oh . . ." I said nervously. "S-Sorry . . ." I quickly moved out of her way, trying not to feel ostracized.

This wasn't the first encounter I'd had with Namine Lightle.

On the third day of school, I'd transferred into AP English in order to expand my knowledge (and also to make my transcripts look good). No one had told _me _that in _this _school, AP English was a breeding ground for the rich, popular kids. No one had told _me_ that in _this _school, AP English wasn't a class for students who actually wanted to learn. Apparently, AP English was a place to gloat about your parents' influencein the community, and to boast about the wealth of your family. Namine Lightle may have been the prettiest girl in school, but she definitely wasn't the snobbiest, and she wasn't the richest. There were kids that had so much money, they didn't even know what it was like to have anything smaller than a one hundred dollar bill in their wallets.

Now, my family was obviously one of the wealthiest, my stepfather being a very successful lawyer of the state, but it wasn't something that I liked to put on display for everyone to talk about. In Korea, we didn't talk about private family matters with our peers. We certainly didn't let anyone know about our family's financial status either, so it was understandable why hearing about nothing but money all through class made me feel uncomfortable. I felt completely out of my element, and I knew that living in America was going to take some getting used to.

My first day of being in AP English was, to put it bluntly . . . Weird. Not only was everyone ridiculously prying, trying to find out how much my stepfather's estate was worth, but Namine and a couple of friends had leaned in toward each other at their desks and were making it painfully obvious that they were gossiping about me. My English wasn't so impeccable that I understood everything that they were saying, but I understood the general topic: They absolutely did _not _like me. I didn't know why, nor did I think they would ever grace me with the answer, but the fact that I was constantly beating myself up for being a waste of space did not make the fact that they disliked me any easier to deal with.

All I wanted was to be accepted; was that so much to ask?

Anyway, the class wasn't entirely just a chat session. The teacher was passionate about English, and she was extremely adamant that everyone pass the class with 85% or higher. She was quiet and somewhat dreamy half of the time, but the things she had to say showed that she loved her job, and she loved learning. She outlined the curriculum for the year with a lot of reading, tests, class discussions, and book reports. I felt a bit panicky knowing that most of the class content would be public speaking-oriented, wondering if all of these snobby kids were the type to make fun of people while they were giving a speech. While I sat there staring at my hands in my lap, I hadn't noticed a certain someone watching me. He was watching me so intently that it was almost creepy—watching me wring my hands, tap my pencil anxiously against the edge of my notebook, awkwardly chew on my bottom lip, and all of the other nervous ticks that came upon me in the face of the things that gave me angst.

I turned my head to look at that certain boy, my brow furrowed in confusion. Why was he staring at me? Was there something wrong with the way that I looked? I felt self-conscious and hyper aware of the rolls of fat that covered my body.

The boy looked away just as quickly as I had turned to look at him, and I blushed. He didn't want me to know he was disgusted by me, I just knew it. I lowered my gaze sadly and stared down at my pudgy legs, wishing more than anything that I could look like Namine or one of her friends. Maybe then I would be as happy as they looked.

Little did I know, AP English was not the only time that I would be in close proximity to the certain someone who had been staring at me oh-so-intently that day.

My thoughts faded away as I came back to the present, completely embarrassed. While I had been lost in thought, Mrs. Waldemeier had caught sight of me outside the class and was now holding the door open for me, saying my name and beckoning me in with a warm smile. Sitting upon the carefully arranged chairs inside the classroom, all of my classmates had leaned forward to stare at me, most likely wondering what the heck I was doing just standing there.

"Come on in, honey!" Mrs. Waldemeier gushed, wrapping a comforting arm around my shoulders and ushering me forward. "Don't be shy . . . There's nothing to be frightened of!"

I immediately stared at my feet, trying my best to catch my breath. I had expected to have to stand in front of everyone when I did my official audition for Choir that day, but I hadn't expected to be thrust out in front of them so _soon._ Not to mention, Namine and her friend were front row and center, looking at me as if I were the ugliest, most bizarre thing that they had ever seen. Not the most welcoming atmosphere, you see.

I tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my right ear and gazed intently at the teacher as she introduced me, using her kind face as an anchor to keep me from having a panic attack.

"Class, I'd like you all to say hello to the newest member of our Choir, Xion Hicks. She's just transferred over from Sculpture class, and I believe she'll be a solid addition to the tenor section." Mrs. Waldemeier looked beside herself with joy, as if she had struck gold. She hugged me tightly from the side and smiled again. "She's also going to grace us with a little performance this afternoon. Purely for the purposes of fairness, of course." She walked away then, toward the piano that I hadn't seen behind me.

I turned and tried not to gasp aloud.

It was _him_. The _boy_. The _"certain someone."_ He was just sitting there on the piano bench, scratching his head behind his ear and yawning as if he were bored. Mrs. Waldemeier was introducing him to me as the Choir pianist, informing me about his role in the Winter concert, but I barely heard her.

He was literally one of _the_ most attractive boys that I had ever laid eyes upon. He was obviously Asian (though I couldn't tell which country he hailed from) and his hair was dyed a glossy dirty-blonde color. It was unruly and messy, pushing up in a spiky way against the left side of his head and falling to his chin, giving the appearance that he had just rolled out of bed. His bangs fell across his dazzling azure eyes, and that fascinated me since there weren't many Asians with blue eyes like me. His intense gaze raked up and down my body in the strangest of ways, realization dawning across his face as he recognized me from AP English. There was that curious look again. He gave me a lazy wave and I saw that he had a small tattoo of a simple black cross on the inside of his wrist. Either side of his bottom lip was pierced with a small silver stud and his ear lobes were stretched about an inch, filled with solid black plugs. When he smiled, I saw a set of perfectly straight, stark white teeth.

Why the Hell was he looking at me like that?

Shyly, I gave him a small wave back and Mrs. Waldemeier came back to my side. Almost regretfully, I had to turn away from the boy (whose name I had missed while I was staring at him) and brought my attentions back to the matter at hand.

I was going to have to suck it up and perform.

"Right, so . . . Shall we get to it?" Mrs. Waldemeier said with a clap. "Why don't you perform the song you sang for me last night?"

"Oh, okay . . ." I said quietly, reaching into my brown leather messenger bag for the CD I had brought for this specific purpose. I walked over and gave it to her, watching her put it into the classroom stereo player and counting down in my mind to keep myself calm. When I turned around, I was going to have to sing.

I didn't realize that I had already missed my cue until snickers spread among Namine and the rest of the class like wildfire. How mortifying . . . !

"No matter," the teacher said sweetly. "We can start over. Just . . . Try to_ sing_ this time, dear."

"S-Sorry . . ." I apologized, my face flushing a bright crimson in my embarrassment. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed that she had already pressed play. I rested my trembling hands at my sides, closed my eyes, and breathed in the music that flowed like liquid gold out of the speakers. I let it fill me to the brim with the memory of my mother and my love for her, my sorrow at her death, my grief . . . She had been everything to me, and I was going to make her proud.

I had chosen a powerful yet eerie song that my mother had loved—_Plastic Flower _by Lena Park. It made me think of snow, and of the strength of the roses that bloom in the Winter. My mother had always loved Winter roses, and had cultivated a garden of them every single year since I had been born. She'd always admired their strength and their resolve and through that admiration, a love of nature had grown within me. I had chosen this song not only to express my mother's love, but also my love for her. If I couldn't express myself through words without having an anxiety attack, I could certainly express myself through song.

When the song ended, there was silence save for the sound of a couple people clearing their throats. I opened my eyes slowly, and saw that everyone was staring at me with either widened eyes, with open mouths, or a combination of the two. Even Namine looked shocked.

"Are you a gospel singer?!" someone joked, jarring everyone back into reality, and causing a few laughs to sound out. Even I giggled a little.

"Yes, that was wonderful! It's amazing how music transcends language barriers, even when sang in Korean," Mrs. Waldemeier said breathlessly, coming to give me another warm hug. "Wonderful indeed! Now, why don't you find a seat, Xion my dear, and we can get started on learning the songs for the Winter concert?"

I wordlessly nodded, feeling happy that I had nailed the performance and hadn't made a fool of myself _too _badly. I knew my mother would have been proud, and that was my heart's utmost desire. I just wanted to make her happy.

As I sat down, my gaze locked with the blonde boy's, but I quickly looked away.

After class, while everyone was filing out at the sound of the bell, Mrs. Waldemeier pulled the boy and I aside. I pointedly did not meet the boy's gaze, as something about the way he had looked at me earlier was unsettling. It had made me feel as if he could see every inch of my innermost heart—almost as if he had heard the sorrow in my singing, and _knew_. Mrs. Waldemeier told us to wait one moment while she talked to one other student about his baritone, and I could feel the boy's eyes on me again. It made me feel uncomfortable. Why was he staring at me? Seriously, _why_? I wished he would just stop. _Just stop staring_.

_Stop **staring**._

I rubbed my shoulder and gazed at the carpeted floor of the classroom. Still, he watched me.

Mrs. Waldemeier hustled back over and clapped her hands once in excitement.

"So, I've made an executive decision," she said, looking from me to the boy. I looked up sharply, intent on what she had to say. It had to be serious business if she'd made both of us stay after the bell.

"Hm?" the boy said softly.

Mrs. Waldemeier grinned and spread her arms wide. "I want Xion for the solo!"

My jaw dropped. Mrs. Waldemeier wanted _me_ for the most important solo in the district? I may have been a new student this year, but it was impossible not to have heard about the seriousness and importance of the Winter concert. There were other kids who had cried blood, sweat, and _tears_ for the chance to audition for the solo . . . And she was just _giving _it to me? I felt flustered, honored, happy, and apprehensive all at the same time.

"Cool," the boy nodded slowly, slipping his hands into the pockets of his black skinny jeans. I noticed that the dark blue v-neck tee that he was wearing brought out every azure hue in his eyes and made his smile even brighter. "So what do you want us to do?"

"Well, Roxas," the teacher started, "I obviously want you two to work together, as she'll need to learn an English song when English is not her first language. Secondly, I will be holding concert practices every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday after school starting in November, since Xion's isn't the only solo. You will both need to attend every single practice in order to get a passing grade."

"So we are to receive grade on this project?" I asked, speaking up for the first time.

"Yes," she replied with another kind smile. "I grade my class based upon participation, not talent. As long as you attend class and, in the future, the practices, you will pass. Fifty percent of the grade is attendance; the other fifty is participating in the Winter concert. So it's a big portion of your grade! You'll need to take this seriously if you want to pass, you guys."

"Yes, ma'am," Roxas drawled, and judging by his tone, I wouldn't have been surprised if he had rolled his eyes at her.

Mrs. Waldemeier was the one who rolled her eyes though, and she ruffled Roxas's already-messy hair. "Just get it figured out. The only way you will excel is if you try hard. So if that means practicing with each other outside of school, then so be it. I want to see determination, effort, and self-discipline out of you two!" With one more smile, she dismissed us.

Roxas held the door open for me and I nodded my thanks, suddenly unable to speak again. I clutched the strap of my messenger bag as if it were a life vest holding me above deep water. Roxas had decided to fall in-step beside me, walking with me down the now-empty hallway. I could feel him watching me occasionally, but he didn't speak and neither did I. I still didn't feel quite comfortable around him, but I didn't want to seem completely stand-offish so I tried my best to speak.

"U-Um . . ." I immediately began to stammer, as conversation with Americans wasn't my forte. "What class do you attend next?"

Roxas chuckled a little bit, and I blushed—he must be laughing at my horrible English and heavy accent. I knew he was, and there was no point dissuading me on the matter. A dark cloud of judgment hovered over me as we walked, though I was no stranger to this feeling.

"I 'attend' Culinary Arts," he said in a somewhat patronizing way. "Cooking. I think we're making lasagna today."

I nodded, and we kept walking.

"What about you?" he asked me.

I gripped my bag tighter. "Um . . . I will attend Trigonometry." I chanced a glance at him to see that he was looking at me with one eyebrow arched.

"Impressive," he complimented me. "AP English, Trig, Choir . . . You're really padding your transcripts, aren't you?"

"Mm," I agreed, my lips turning upward slightly. "I come to States, and I want to go to college. I need to receive high grades to graduate American school," I told him.

"I hear ya," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "My family is Korean, so graduating is a huge thing in my house. I'm not doing too well right now."

I blinked and immediately said in Korean, "So am I! Small world, huh?"

He looked surprised and shot back in Korean, "Seems like it! You do need to work on your English, though, haha!"

I tittered nervously, because I didn't really know what to say. To be honest, I was taken aback that he was still walking with me. Culinary Arts was in a building separate from the main school, located alongside the other Arts classrooms . . . He was going to complete opposite direction! Was he . . . Walking me to class?

I immediately stamped out whatever hope had threatened to spring to only reason why he was deigning me with his presence was to be polite since we were being partnered up for the concert solo. He probably just wanted to get to know the person who would be performing his composition vocally.

Why did I constantly insist on doing this to myself? Letting myself believe that someone could actually like me? Those fairy tales were for other girls. Pretty girls with perfect, thin bodies like Namine Lightle. Not me.

"When I first come here," I said in my halting English, as if to prove to him that my English wasn't _that _bad, "I find it hard to . . . To adjust. But then I realized that learning does not have language barriers; learning is for world." I looked down as we walked, not really paying attention to the fact that we were almost ten minutes past the bell, and officially late for class. "I like to learn, so I do well in class."

Roxas smiled at me, and for some reason, I felt special. Somehow . . . I knew he didn't smile like that often.

"That's . . . Cool," he said in a decisive way, nodding appreciatively. "That's cool that you enjoy something most American kids don't, hah. Isn't this your class? Trigonometry with Mr. Melden, right?"

I looked up, surprised that we were already there. "Oh . . ." I answered. "Yes. This is my class."

We faced each other and he gave me another smile; a smile that made me feel as if I should keep it for myself and lock it away in my heart. He was much too pretty of a boy to be talking to me. Why was he talking to me? I didn't deserve his smile.

"So . . ." He said in Korean. "Looks like we each have something the other would like to have."

My face twisted in confusion and I pushed my hair behind my ears. "_Mweo_?"

He grinned. "You have a knack for learning, and I'm fluent in English."

I looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, comprehending what he was saying, my face lit up at the prospect of what he was offering. If he could do this for me, and I could return the favor in my own way, it would be such a big help. It would help me break down the remaining barriers between me and the American people.

"You would do that?" I asked quietly, grateful. "Help me to better my English?"

He nodded. "Sure. If you promise to help me pass the classes I'm failing." He shrugged and slipped his thumbs into the front pockets of his skinny jeans. "It would make my _oma _really happy if I graduated this year. No rush, of course."

I smiled slightly and nodded abruptly. "Yes. Okay. I could tutor you." And then, in English I said, "It would make me very happy to learn English!"

He reached out as if to chuck me under the chin, but then stopped himself at the last minute and retracted his hand. He smiled one last time. "Sweet. So . . . I guess I'll see you in AP English tomorrow morning?"

"_Ne_," I said, a little _too _excitedly. Embarrassed, I lowered my gaze and attempted to stop my blush from creeping into my cheeks. He laughed a little bit again, and walked away.

"Um . . . _Kamsahamnida_!" I called after him.

He turned around and walked backward, giving me a little wave and a small half-smile.

"No problem," he called back. "See you later!"

"_Annyeong_~!" I replied, turning and walking into class late. I immediately stopped dead in my tracks just inside the classroom. Mr. Melden was frozen at the front of the full class, his chalk-filled hand poised on the forest-green chalkboard. His mouth was half-open, and there was indignation in his eyes.

I had forgotten that the one thing that my American teachers hated most, more than any other offense a student could give . . . Was tardiness.

x-x-x

**A/N: And there you have it! Lots of changes! I especially like that Xion is Korean now because this way, she can speak more freely with Roxas in the future chapters and she won't seem so helpless, haha. Anyway, I'll have chapter two up in the next couple of days, after I go through and edit! Until then, see ya!**


	2. Chapter 2

**UPDATE: July 3****rd****, 2014! Here we are, back for chapter two! Expect daily updates for this, sometimes multiple times a day. I'm basically just uploading as soon as I finish editing! Also, when I first was working on this story, I never actually completed it because I wrote myself into some corners. Well, this time around, I WILL be finishing it. I have some plans for it, so sit tight! It's gonna be a bumpy ride!**

**NOTE: **_**Un **_**is another way of saying yes in Korean, and it's informal. So when Roxas says it to his mom, he's being a brat. When Xion said **_**ne **_**in the last chapter, she was saying yes to Roxas in that way as a sign of showing respect since she felt like he was superior to her. **_**Aish **_**is a Korean that word that means 'darn it' or sometimes I've seen it used for 'shit'. Like an exclamation of "oh, crap!" Every time Roxas says it, it means shit because he cusses like a sailor, lol.**

**A/N: This is the edited version of this chapter~ Again . . . Please don't read this story if you can't handle rated M material. I will NOT hold back in this fic. :p**

* * *

**Chapter Two - Ghosts of the Past**

_Roxas's POV_

I absolutely hated alarm clocks. For Christ's sake, the damn things were so freaking _loud. _Granted, that was the _point_ of having an alarm clock, but seriously? _Seriously?_ They were stressful, point blank. My mornings were always so hectic because of my God damn clock!

First, I would sleep through the incessant noise as long as possible until I threw it across the room to shut it up. I'd been doing this since kindergarten, so my dadhad forced me to put batteries in all of my alarm clocks to prevent me from unplugging them from the wall and rendering them useless. Then, even if I managed to sleep through the alarm, my stupid little sisters running up and down the hall singing Disney songs at the top of their lungs usually woke me up a whole Hell of a lot quicker than the dumb clock (I had three sisters, each of them more annoying than the last). In the off chance that their obnoxious voices didn't do the trick, my momwoke me up by bursting into my room, ripping open the blinds to let the blazing light of a thousand suns in, and screaming at me in Korean. Her annoying voice more often than not irritated me enough to where I woke myself up just to snap back at her in Korean as well.

Sadly, this morning was the same as all the others.

"_Oma_ . . ." I groaned, pulling my heavy black comforter over my head. Why did she have to do this?

"_Annyeo_!" she screeched. "Wake up! Get out of bed!" I felt her hand repeatedly spanking me on the rump, and I sat up quickly, glaring as ferociously as I could. She smiled wickedly, her half-moon eyes set perfectly in her youthful oval face. I knew she enjoyed this. I just _knew _it.

The woman was evil. Pure evil incarnate.

I lay back down. "_Oma_," I whimpered. "Don't wanna . . ."

"Too bad," she said, fluffing her wavy black hair vainly in the mirror that hung on the wall above my dresser. "You've got to take your sisters to school today. And don't forget to take two of your pain pills."

I rolled my eyes. '_Here it comes . . .' _I thought grudgingly as I threw back my covers and put my feet on the floor.

"That was our condition for you to come back to live at home, Roxas," she said in Korean, giving me a familiarly stern look. She put one hand on her hip, pointing at me with the other. "You have to help us out with the girls, otherwise you're going back to the detention center. And you know what will happen if you go back there. You're not a child anymore, Roxas. You're eighteen and an adult. You'll be transferred straight to prison. These were the conditions that your probation officer agreed to as well. You need to start learning responsi—"

"_Un, oma,_" I interrupted harshly, tired of hearing her belittle me about the mistakes I had made in the past. "I know what you're gonna say: _'Responsibility and__maturity go hand-in-hand, and I'll never make it on my own if I don't make efforts to master both._' Blah, blah, blah. You tell me this at least ten million times a day! _Aish._"

I jammed my hand backward through my unruly dyed-blonde tresses in frustration, glowering over at her. I _knew _that what I had done was wrong, and I had beaten myself up enough over it. I had made a complete change and dropped everything from my old life—what more did my mother want from me?

She surprised me with a quick slap to the side of the head.

"Watch your mouth," she said irritatedly. She then stroked my cheek lovingly. "_Aigoo, _you're such a grouch in the mornings, son. Stop being such a grouch. And go to college. And work on your Korean—I don't like speaking English in the house. And hurry! I don't want the girls to be late!"

I rolled my eyes dramatically again and sighed an exaggerated sigh. She was such a nag, but damn if I didn't love her more than any other woman on the planet. She was my mom, after all.

I got out of bed after she kissed my forehead and rushed to the mirror to check my hair. My reflection gazed back at me with a tired, somewhat listless expression, my weary cobalt blue eyes holding thousands of well-kept secrets. My hair had just a hint of natural black growing in at the roots (it was popular in South Korea for boys my age to bleach their hair, and I had happily followed the trend years ago), and the messy layers and spikes always seemed to stick out in just the right way. My bangs swept across my face in a manner that framed my heart-shaped face and I couldn't help but smile at myself a little. I was definitely attractive, and the piercings I had were enough of a rebellion against my parents to make the complaints they made about me bearable. Even though they barely tolerated them, I kept the piercings and the plugs and the dyed hair because it made me feel unique in a strict culture such as my own.

I also liked the way it felt to be complimented on such things, and I was mere days away from admitting to myself that I was an arrogant person.

I hurriedly threw on the same pair of black skinny jeans that I had worn the day before, because I really didn't care. I had stolen them from one of my sisters, Brittany, after she'd lost weight doing cheerleading. It wasn't like she wore a size 7 anymore, and I was tall and skinny, so they fit. I buckled them low on my hips with a brown belt that had a brass buckle, allowing the top of my boxers to show, and slipped a faded maroon v-neck on over my head. I tousled my hair in the mirror so that it fell into my eyes just right, and flashed myself a white-toothed grin.

I ran into sixteen-year-old Brittany in the hallway and rolled my eyes as she shot a stream of nasty curse words my way. I forgave her for everything, though, even the day when she told everyone that she had stupidly decided to change her given name from Jyung Su to Brittany. After meeting Namine and befriending her, Brittany had decided that she wanted to "Americanize" as much as possible in order to fit in. We weren't _allowed_ to call her by her Korean name anymore, and everything we said to her had to be in English. My mother and I both refused, but my father humored her by calling her "Ms. Spears" as a way of teasing her.

Brittney glared at me and put her hands on her hips.

"Are you _actually_ going to go to school today, _oppa_?" she asked snidely, as if I didn't go to school every single fucking day. Why did nobody in my family notice the steps I had been taking to change my life?

I didn't say anything to her, however, and merely smirked in return. I decided to do the thing she hated the most: I messed up her hair. With screams of outrage and annoyance, she chased me down the stairs and into the kitchen, where our father snapped at us to settle down. He gestured to his coffee mug, full to the brim with coffee, and then left to go to the dining room. Our mother gave us a warning look as she set breakfast plates onto the table.

"No thanks, _oma_," I said as I rushed by, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. She started to protest, but I was already in the entryway helping the twins into their coats.

"_Oppa, oppa, oppa,_" they sang their made-up song in unison. At once it had been cute, but now the two six-year-olds sang it to me every single fucking day. "_Oppa has a big butt. Oppa, oppa, oppa. Oppa has a big butt."_

_ "_Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, zipping twin number one, Eun Seo, into her padded blue windbreaker. I tugged on her long pigtails and told her to go get her breakfast from our mother. As she dashed off, I turned to twin number two, Eun Ju, and was pleased to see that she had zipped herself up.

"Look, _oppa_," she said with a bright smile that made her eyes shine. "I did it myself!"

"Yes, you did!" I praised, giving her a big hug and lifting her up off of the ground. She squealed happily, and I put her down. "Good job! Now, go and get your breakfast, too." I patted her lightly on the bottom and turned to slip my _Toms_ on at the garage door. Just then, I felt Eun Ju's tiny hands slapping me on the thighs in revenge, since she couldn't reach my butt. I couldn't help but laugh.

"That's what you get, big butt _oppa_!" She giggled before running away.

I sighed and shook my head. My sisters could all three be annoying as one, but sometimes they had their cute moments.

The girls ate their breakfast in record time, kissed our father and mother good bye, grabbed their Dora the Explorer backpacks, and met me at the garage door, chiming their made-up song about my "big butt" simultaneously all the way out of the house and into the garage where my car awaited.

I jangled the keys to my sleek black Mazda 4 and helped the girls into their car seats on either side. Then, I climbed into the driver's seat, opened the glove compartment, and withdrew my iPod. Being the thoughtless teenager I was, I selected Suicide Silence's _Don't Die _and turned it up so loud that I could feel the windows shaking. I knew my mother would absolutely tan my hide if she knew I was listening to this music in the car with the twins, especially this loudly when they were so young, but like I said—thoughtless teenager here.

For all my childish antics and the way I loved to get on my family's nerves, music was the one thing I was dead serious about all of the time, without fail. Music was my escape, my sanctuary where I could just _be_. I didn't have to make jokes and worry about my appearance when it came to music. I didn't have to paint on my façade every morning in order to hide my inner pain from the people around me.

At the age of 9, I had been diagnosed with a rare disease called Zollinger-Ellison Syndrome. It was a disease that caused an excess of stomach acid inside of me to burn ulcers into my stomach lining, causing me intense and unbearable pain. We hadn't known about it until I was 8, and I'd had to be rushed to the hospital after passing out in P.E. at school. Upon the results of the doctor's examinations that day, I was diagnosed. A month or two later, it was discovered to be that I had a small tumor—a "gastrinoma"—in my small intestine. Fast forward to my current age of 18: three lovely tumors nestled in my intestine, having a grand old time being a triplet of cancerous fucks. I'd had one or two removed over the duration of my middle school years, but the little bastards kept popping up.

In my Junior year, I rebelled against my parents so badly that I was never home long enough for them to get me to go to the hospital for longer than a night or two at one time, making it difficult for treatment to be 100% effective. Nothing but surgery or antibiotics could help me to escape the painful side effects that kept me out of school fifty percent of the time the previous year. Side effects that included abdominal pain, diarrhea, and vomiting blood on occasion. I'd been in and out of the local hospital so often that my family knew my main doctor on a personal level, and our families had often had dinner together throughout my time growing up.

Because of the immeasurable amount of mental and emotional strength it took to keep myself from spiraling into a deep depression, I had turned to music to keep myself sane. It had taken practice, desire, and perseverance to learn to play the piano the way that I played. I treasured my gift as if it were a pound of real gold.

Was my disease fatal? Not right now. Could that change? Yes, any day. After every biopsy of every tumor, I was terrified that it would end up being malignant. Luckily, none had so far, but it was only a matter of time. As of right now, I was taking pills every day that helped with the ulcer pain, but it wasn't exactly a cure.

Only after I had dropped off the twins at their elementary school did I allow myself to think about Xion Hicks. Like I said before, I hadn't allowed myself to take a liking to any other girl since Namine, especially since she had betrayed my trust and used me for numerous things. Most of the girls in my school emulated Namine in every way and were just as horrid as her. But Xion . . . Xion seemed different.

I wasn't saying I wanted to marry the girl, but I definitely thought she was cute. I wanted to take a chance and get to know her. She seemed different. Quiet, intriguing, and mysterious. The way she had sung yesterday had given me the chills. I had connected with her, and she didn't even know it. In her voice, I had heard the same pain that I had experienced all my life living with ZES and the awful things that I'd done to get myself landed in juvy, and I had heard the same resolve to keep living life. That girl had seen a lot, I knew for sure. And even though I didn't know her, I just _knew _she was strong.

I resolved that for the sake of my parents believing in me again, I would ditch the "friends" I constantly forced myself to hang out with. I would show my mom and dad that I was trying to lead a normal life, and I decided that I would try to talk to Xion a little more.

I wanted to unlock whatever she was hiding in that head of hers.

x-x-x

I got to school late, missing AP English, and moseyed on in to my second period like I owned the place. Though my lackadaisical attitude usually caused me a lot of trouble, in my second class of the day (Current Events), I was lucky. My teacher just so happened to also be my uncle. The amused look on the Korean man's face only served to prove my luck, and when he looked over his glasses at me, I was reminded of all the similarities between him and my father_._

"Nice of you to join us, nephew," he said, since he didn't mind drawing attention to the fact that we were related.

Ignoring the sour looks of envy my peers gave me, I plopped down in my seat at the back of the class and put my feet up on the desk.

"No problem, _ajeoshi_," I grinned, folding my hands behind my head and leaning back. "I know you love seeing my handsome face."

Mr. Park smiled. "_Ne_, because your dashing good looks brighten up the classroom and make teaching better and better each and every day," he said, sarcasm evident in his sickly-sweet tone.

I threw a pencil at him, and he caught it before it poked him in the face. He raised his eyebrows and looked at me.

"Excuse me, Mr. Park?" he said to me (we had the same last name, obviously). "Perhaps your good looks would be better enjoyed . . . In detention?"

I merely smiled in return, knowing that he would never put me into detention. He knew that in my case, any bad marks on my record could affect me negatively, and any bad news could travel back to my probation officer. If that were to happen, then I'd be in some _real _trouble. I was fortunate that my mother had gotten the Principal to keep my punishment as Choir pianist under wraps. Besides, this was normal for us—teasing and throwing things at each other. Later on in the class, he would probably throw the pencil I had just thrown at him back at me, and unlike him, I didn't have the best hand-eye coordination.

As class dragged on, Mr. Park continued his lecture on the 80's African-American civil rights movement in California, and I found myself blanking out and thinking about Xion. I wondered why I was so fixated on her and why she seemed so interesting to me. I hadn't felt so interested in a person since I'd first set my eyes upon Namine and quite frankly, it scared me. I didn't like feeling powerless. Attraction was definitely something that, with the right person and the right moment, I could be controlled with. I did _not _like being controlled.

I felt my phone vibrating in my jeans so I slouched low in my seat, slipping it out of my pocket and glancing at the touchscreen down by my leg. Confusion twisted my features at the sight of the unknown number pictured there. Who could be texting me at ten in the morning? I brushed it off; it was probably just a wrong number.

Just as I was putting my phone away again, it buzzed once more.

'_What the fuck?' _I thought in irritation, pressing the button to unlock the screen. I opened the message begrudgingly. Who the fuck _was _this?

**Park, I believe we have business with one another. Business that has been neglected for much too long.**

My heart skipped a beat. Obviously, it wasn't a wrong number. The person knew my last name. Who they were, though, I had no idea, and I definitely didn't know what business they thought they had with me. I quickly tapped out a reply.

**Who is this?**

The reply took forever in coming, and the entire time I waited, I found that I felt anxious. Something was creeping up on me, swirling with sinister clouds of apprehension, waiting to strike me with a lightning bolt of terror. A memory . . . A memory that I had tried to forget. A life that I had given up for the chance to be normal. Was my new life to be ripped from beneath my feet?

The reply finally arrived. The vibration felt to me as if it jarred my very bones.

**You know exactly who this is, Park. Be looking out for me; there are some sins that cannot be forgiven.**

My heart stopped and my blood turned to ice in my veins.

I knew _exactly_ who it was.

I knew _exactly _what he wanted.

I knew _exactly_ what I was in for.

After class, I decided to skip my third class and go straight to the Library. My mind was racing, and fear had clouded all other rational thought. I was floored. I couldn't believe that this was happening to me. I had thought that I was rid of that part of my past. I had thought that by forgetting, it would disappear, and that by running, I could get away. But one can't run forever, especially when there's nowhere to run to.

The Library was a sprawling, beautiful piece of architecture that seemed nearly out of place on a high school campus. It had everything you would expect an ancient Roman building to have: pillars, arches, sculpture, art . . . It was gorgeous, to put it simply, and sometimes I liked to come here just to be in the presence of something wonderful. Whoever had designed this place deserved an award.

Inside the two-story building, tall shelves full of thousands of books reared up to the vaulted ceilings, each book seeming to beg and plead to be read. I wasn't much of a reader myself, but just being near such vast amounts of knowledge soothed me. It also provided a great hiding place when I wanted to get away. It was ridiculously easy to obscure myself in the aisles, and if anyone came looking for me to force me to go to class, it was simple to dash around like a stealth agent until they gave up and assumed I had left campus entirely. Right now, I needed a place to hide, so I went to the elevator, rode up to the second story, and walked straight to the back right corner of the expansive room.

I slid down to the floor and spread my legs out in front of me, pulling my phone out and going through the contacts. The matter of the text messages was serious business. The person who had sent them was not a person to be trifled with, or it could mean my life.

I put the phone to my ear. The person on the receiving end answered on the third ring.

"Hey, what's up, man? I've got to get to class, so make it quick."

"Sora," I said breathlessly. "We've got problems."

There was silence from my cousin on my mother's side, Sora Hyun, and then he sighed.

"Shit," he cursed. "Are you serious? What happened?"

I ran my hands anxiously through my unruly spiky hair. "I don't know, dude. I was just in Current Events and they texted me, and seriously . . . I think they want their money. We've got to figure this out."

"Yeah," Sora agreed. "We can't just keep running."

"I know," I grumbled. "This is bad. This is really bad."

"Tell me about it. Uh . . . Um, well . . . Listen, Rox, we'll figure this out," Sora reassured me. "We will. Trust me. Just . . . Meet me at my house tonight when you get off school, and we'll talk about it, okay?"

"Yeah," I said, looking up at the ceiling while I struggled to calm myself down. This was big. This was really big, and this was really bad.

"Good, so I'll see you tonight."

"Yep."

"And Roxas?" Sora said quietly.

"Hm?"

"Try not to freak out," he said in Korean. "It'll be all right. We'll figure this out."

I let the phone slide down to fall in my lap and I heaved a rather large, heavy sigh. I didn't know what I was going to do. I had absolutely no idea what I was going to _do._

I suppose in order to explain my feelings, I should start at the very beginning. All bad stories have good beginnings, and mine . . . Mine was the best of them all.

I met Namine in when I was just starting seventh grade in a new school across town. I saw her sitting in the Gym at lunch, laughing with her friends while they watched the popular guys play a scrimmage game of basketball. She just looked so pretty, with those baby blue eyes and dazzling white teeth. Her blonde hair was cropped short at her chin back then, and she looked like a little pixie whirlwind. Back then I wasn't as outgoing, so I forced myself to pine after her from afar for weeks before she finally noticed me. From the second we met (a cliché "drop your books in the hallway, I'll help you pick them up" meeting), we had an instant, electrifying connection and we were official the following month.

It wasn't until ninth grade that Namine's sweetness got to her head and her popularity exploded. All the guys wanted her, and all the girls wanted to be her friend. I initially thought I was going to have my work cut out for me, trying to keep her interested in me, but I soon found out a much different truth.

I _belonged _to Namine. Nothing and no one was going to change that fact.

She texted and called constantly, and demanded that I come to her whenever she wanted. She cried and pouted when she didn't get her way. Since I loved her completely and just wanted her to be happy, it didn't matter what time of night, I was climbing into her window to comfort her as best I could. She took advantage of the compassionate aspect of my personality, and she did so to the fullest extent. Once she realized that I would heed her every beck and call, I found that there was no such thing as "my" time anymore. It was now "her" time, and if I wasn't doing what she asked, I was wasting it.

Now, you'd think that a smart individual like me would leave behind a crazy woman such as Namine Lightle. The problem was that in my late sophomore year, my ZES hit its peak and I had nearly five small tumors in my intestine at one time. I had to get surgery, or I could die. I was terrified, and I knew that if I didn't have Namine there, I would have to go through it alone. So I clung even tighter to the false sense of reality my love for her had created within my mind, and she drank it up like water. She was there for every single surgery, always by my bedside when my eyelids fluttered open, and all-in-all the perfect supportive girlfriend.

Little did I know that in _her _mind, by me accepting her support, I was sealing the deal between us. I was hers, and she was mine. We belonged to one another, and I loved her. I _loved her_.

But it was also around this time that I turned 17 and a penchant for violence stirred within me, most likely from the pent-up emotions that my ZES and Namine's controlling reign had caused to build up within me. Namine's brother, Demyx, had joined a gang for reasons unknown to me. All I was aware of was that this certain gang had connections and they had money, and to me, all I saw was a way to make cash to help my parents out with the medical bills, which had been piling up ever since the first round of surgeries when I was a child. Not to mention, it made it easier for me to get fake prescriptions for my pain pills, which I was overdosing on often. Namine got me a meeting with the leader of the gang, and I was in.

Once I passed the initiation, of course.

I came home that night beaten and bruised and my parents flipped. I couldn't tell them anything except that I had "gotten into a fight," and that there was nothing they could do. I stayed out of school voluntarily for a few days, and when I went back, everything went into hyperdrive.

I was never alone. Ever. I was constantly with one member of the gang or another. Our 22 year old boss Xemnas had us running errands for him nearly every day, two to a mission. The missions usually consisted of drug runs, collections of payments, reconnaissance, or meetings with people to relay messages. The drugs and the money were a cover-up for something much more sinister, I just didn't know what. Most of the senior members were sworn to secrecy about the real shit the gang was involved in, and the one time I asked earned me a punch in the gut so ferocious that I had a nasty bruise for a week. Even Namine knew about the gang's true purpose, but she wouldn't tell me either.

In any case, she knew how to divert my attentions elsewhere quite effectively, if you catch my drift.

Though I was able to keep my illegal activities out from under my parents' radar, I wasn't able to keep them a secret from my best friend and cousin, Sora. His mother was my mother's sister, and our families had been so intertwined at birth that Sora and I were like one entity. We even looked the same, which our parents constantly liked to remind us of at family get-togethers. Anyway, he came to me one day and told me that he'd heard some things from people around his school—he knew that I had connections and money, and he knew I could help him out.

Now, Namine had never liked Sora (she felt that he was trying to break the two of us up, which he wasn't, but Namine was just insanely jealous), so she flat-out refused to let me help him, and ignored me for days until I begged her to forgive me.

Naturally, I had called him during the maybe fifteen minutes I wasn't with Namine. He picked up immediately, and seemed pretty anxious. When I asked him what was up and what he needed, he came out with it immediately. He was addicted to Oxycodone and he knew I would be able to get him what he needed with no troubles. I told him I could, and he quickly elaborated that he didn't just want the drugs, he wanted to join the gang I was in! I couldn't believe it, but since so far the only illegal things we'd done was buy and sell prescription pills, weed, and ecstasy, I didn't think it would be that big of a deal.

I was very, very wrong.

Sora joined the gang almost as smoothly as I did. I made some calls, got him past the initiation for a fee, and he was in. He was given enough Oxycodone pills to last him a few weeks, and sent on a drug run the very next day. It wasn't too long before Xemnas took a liking to him and started bringing him along on his own personal missions. Sora came back shaken and pale every single time. Apparently, Xemnas and the higher up members didn't perform the same petty crimes: they met with people who wanted to hire them to hurt or kill the people they didn't like, or that owed them money, or whatever. So far, Sora hadn't been asked to actually kill anybody, but he had panicked when he overheard Xemnas and another member, Saix, talking about sending _me _on one of those very same missions with  
Sora—_by ourselves_.

It wasn't long before it happened, though, and both Sora and I knew that if we didn't do as we were told, _we'd _be the dead ones.

It was relatively easy: Xemnas wanted us to start a simple fire, wait around to make sure it spread throughout the house, and then steal away into the night. We did just that, and it went so ridiculously smoothly it was almost comical. Get the target address from Saix, set the fire, run. No harm in that, right? We would run off into the dark with the hopes that whoever was inside would get out (we weren't told exactly _whom_ our objective was), and then never hear a word about it again. We soon discovered that the gang we had joined used the lower members for their cover of buying and selling drugs. Their real purpose was to basically be hitmen for hire! Sora and I were so shocked and horrified that we were beside ourselves. Namine, who had known all along, couldn't understand why we were so surprised. We lived in a city that was so clearly divided from the rich to the poor that it wasn't a shock that there were gangs out there who killed for a living. According to her, "some people just needed to get out of the way."

Sora and I were sent on three or four more hits over the course of the next few months. Pretty soon, we'd been in the gang for an entire year, committed innumerable acts of arson, and nobody in the city knew who we were. We were getting away with murder, no pun intended, and it was sickening us. Sora and I knew we could never go to the cops if we valued the lives of our families, and I was constantly getting arrested for the drug runs, so we decided it would be best to ask to leave the gang.

The look on Xemnas's face when we both came to him the month before I turned 18 and in his eyes "professed our weakness" was a look that I'll never forget. We both received the worst beatings of our lives and were sent away with more than one broken rib that night. We were both becoming hopeless that we might be stuck for life when we got the call.

Xemnas wanted five thousand dollars, and we were free to go. Of course, we didn't have that kind of money readily available, so we struck a deal with him: we would make payments. He agreed, and we were free.

Sort-of.

I also began to recognize that the toll the gang and Namine had taken on my life was nearly irreparable. My family was terrified of me now that I was a juvenile delinquent and a drug seller, my entire eleventh grade year was practically wasted and my grades were shot, and Namine had only gotten _more _controlling after my decision to leave the gang. I knew I needed to make a change for my mom, dad, and little sisters, and I knew that it was going to start with Namine.

Our break-up was definitely on the list of the top ten most violent break-ups in America, I'll tell you what. We _both _had bruises and we _both _wanted to murder each other. I'd done enough murdering for a lifetime, though (again, no pun intended), and I knew it was just best if we never spoke again. Of course, she made it clear that she still owned me, I would come crawling back one of these days, we were in love, yadda yadda. Whatever. I was done with her, and I was ready to get my life back on track.

Anyway, Sora and I kept up our payments to Xemnas for as long as we could until we ran out of the funds we had left from being a part of the gang. We still owed about eighteen hundred dollars, but since we absolutely did not have the money, we just stopped contacting them. I knew it was stupid, but I had the smallest smidgeon of hope that they would forget about us. After all, they had eleven members including Namine, and they were dealing with stuff that was so much bigger than our payments of five hundred dollars each month. We seemed to be correct, and we heard nothing from them for the whole Summer.

When I got the text from the unknown number, I knew for a fact that we had not been forgotten.

In short, we were screwed.

I stretched out my arms and yawned, using the Library bookshelf to pull myself back to my feet. For some reason, all this thinking in the Library atmosphere had made me sleepy. I needed a cigarette. I made my way back to the elevator when all-of-a-sudden, I ran into none other than Xion coming out of it. She looked like a deer in headlights and she just stared at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"Hey!" I said with a warm smile. "What are you doing here? Do you not have a class?"

She flushed bright red and stammered out a reply in our native tongue.

"Um . . . it's my free period. I'm researching for the AP English book report. I wanted to do the report on classic literature, so I came to Library to look up books."

I slipped my hands into the front pockets of my skinny jeans. "Cool. I hate reading," I said with a little laugh that she mirrored. She was really kinda cute, with her nervous blushing and all. And that hair . . . That was some long-ass hair. Jeez.

"So," I started, "You want to get together this weekend and practice the song?"

Her eyes widened. "Outside of school? Oh . . . Um . . . Where?"

I shrugged. "My place, yours . . . It doesn't matter. I have a piano at my house, so we could go there."

She looked worried and thoughtful for a moment, before she smiled up at me. "Um . . . We should go to your house. My _abeoji_ doesn't like visitors too often."

I nodded. "Sounds good to me. So what's your number? I can pick you up Saturday morning."

She gave it to me and I input it in my phone. Then, I smiled at her one last time and said good bye, heading into the elevator. As the doors shut between us, I saw her give me one last shy smile, almost as if she couldn't quite believe that I'd asked her to come over. I was a little confused, but pleasantly so. It wasn't like I had asked her out on a date since it was for school, but she was cute and I had a weakness for cute girls.

I shook the Xion thoughts out of my head and cursed myself. I had too much to worry about with everything going on with Xemnas to be focusing on cute girls. I needed to be brainstorming ideas for how to make quick money so that Sora and I could get Xemnas off of our backs. Sora and I were both way too prideful and ashamed of our pasts to be able to ask our parents for the money, and neither of us could get jobs with our juvenile records. The only solutions I could see on the horizon were illegal ones, which wasn't something I was too keen on. I was trying to change my life and avoid those things and I was pretty sure that Sora was, too. I didn't want to waste my life on idiocy, especially with my illness. I didn't know when or if one of my tumors was going to turn cancerous and doom me to a short existence, so I wanted to live my life to the fullest and be as successful as I could.

I just wished my parents and everyone else around me could see how serious and passionate I was about making the change.

x-x-x

_Xion's POV_

I stared at the label on the back of the small box of microwaveable vegetables that I currently held in my hand. Chewing on my bottom lip, I felt worried at the amount of calories that it contained. I mean, seriously, what was the world coming to when _vegetables _contained calories? Scowling, I slammed it back into the grocery store freezer. So much for managing to force down lunch today. My eating disordered mind was screaming obscenities at me, wondering why in the Hell I was even bothering to look at food in the first place.

"Why did I even come here?" I muttered to myself under my breath, adjusting the strap on my bag and turning to leave the store. It was only a block away from school, and I was on Lunch period right now, so I knew I would make it back in time to maybe go back to the Library and get some studying done.

I pulled my _iphone_ out of my pocket, thinking back to the period before. I had run into Roxas in the Library and it had gone fairly well. I had expected every time I met him to be awkward, seeing as I had no clue how to talk to boys anymore, let alone attractive ones. I had to admit, I was still in a tad bit of shock at the fact that he had asked me to get together for the upcoming weekend. In Korea, before my mother passed away, I had dated lots of boys and been very open, but here in America, it was different. I didn't know the exact reason nor if there was really even one reason, but I knew that I was sad and lonely and didn't have the energy to date boys here. I'd only been here a short time, but I knew I wouldn't be dating anytime soon.

Then again . . . Roxas _was _pretty cute . . .

Who was to say he was interested in me, though? I hardly found myself worthy, so how would _he _find me worthy? I wasn't going to completely close myself off to the idea of dating in America, but I was definitely going to be cautious about who I dated.

I stopped just outside the grocery store, staring thoughtfully down at Roxas's name in my contacts book.

Perhaps it was time to open myself up, and maybe then I would be able to start to heal.

I exhaled gently and made as if to go back to the school campus, but was stopped almost immediately by a very exaggerated gasp. Something told me it was directed at me, so I paused and glanced behind me over my shoulder.

"Oh my flipping _God_, I love your _hair_!"

I raised an eyebrow at the tiny, bubbly redhead that was standing behind me with an ice cream cone in her hand. Her pouty mouth hung open in awe, her cerulean eyes gazed at my luxurious, lengthy black tresses, and let me tell you what, I felt like I was on display. I looked away, feeling sort of panicky. I hated it when people stared at me, and I hated accepting and hearing compliments. In my eyes, it felt fake to receive compliments from strangers. They didn't see me without makeup, not all dressed and done up. Who were strangers to pass judgment, whether it be positive or negative?

The redheaded girl was taller than me by a little bit, but looked to be skinnier than me. She wore a simple pair of ripped denim short-shorts and a light blue tank top that brought out the cherry-red of her hair in a becoming way. She stepped up to me and licked her ice cream cone.

"How long did it take you to grow it out?" she asked with a bright smile.

I regarded her warily for a brief moment. She didn't seem to have a hidden agenda, such as complimenting me out of jealousy, and she seemed genuinely interested in my answer to her question. I wasn't a _rude _person, and I _had _just decided to open myself up to other people, so I made the decision to continue a conversation with the girl.

"Not long," I said in my halting English. "I grow hair all my life, and I do not cut it."

Her eyes widened even more, if possible. "Holy—! You have an accent! Are you from another country?!"

I nodded, a little bit confused as to why she was so intrigued by me. "Yes . . . I am from Korea . . ."

"Wow! My best friend is from there," she gushed. "Do you go to school down the road, too?! Midtown Prep?"

"Yes," I replied. "I am in grade twelve . . . Do you attend this school also?"

"Yeah, totally!" she answered, taking another taste of her ice cream. "I'm 16 and a Junior there . . . I just transferred this year from Central High!"

I nodded a little awkwardly and gave her a small smile. "Well . . . I guess I will see you sometime . . ."

"Wait!" she said, waving her free hand around quickly as if she had touched something hot. "I'll walk back with you. We should eat lunch together! I don't know if you've made any friends yet, but I don't really know anyone here besides my best friend . . . I'd love to hang out! Do you mind?"

I shrugged, knowing that friends were always a good thing to have. This girl seemed very bubbly and kind. I knew I ought to give her a chance.

"Okay," I said slowly.

We set off together, and I couldn't help but look at her body out of the corner of my eyes. She had virtually no curves, but in a model-esque type of way, long legs that didn't touch at the top, bone-thin arms, sharp collarbones . . . I was envious of her thinness, so I quickly gazed down at the ground. I felt as if I would never look as pretty and skinny as her. Was I reaching for a goal that I was doomed never to accomplish?

"My name's Kairi, by the way!" she said around licks to her dessert. She smiled at me, and I realized she wasn't wearing any make-up. I instantly put myself down, knowing that I was wearing all sorts of make-up: circle lenses, fake eyelashes, blush, powder . . .

"I am Xion," I replied. "It is very nice to meet you . . ."

"Cool," she said. "Man, it's so effing hot today . . ." She fanned herself with her hand before running it backward through her hair, which fell to her collarbones. She then smiled at me. "Is this weather any better than the weather in Korea?"

"Mm . . . It is much warmer in California," I said with a small laugh. "Korea weather is more humid . . . I do not much like the heat, either!"

We both laughed and instantly I knew that I would get along with Kairi just fine. She was laid back and I could tell she liked to laugh. Before my mother died, I loved to laugh. Maybe a friend like Kairi was just what I needed.

"Jeez, you have the cutest accent!" Kairi was saying as we entered the school building a few minutes later. "And the prettiest face! You're just adorable!"

I flushed and fussed with my hair a little bit out of modesty. "Thank you," I said brusquely, for as I said before, I didn't like compliments.

"You have the coolest green eyes, too!" she continued. "They're so big!"

"Oh, they are contacts," I explained to her. "My natural eye color is blue; I wear the circle lens to make my eyes look bigger."

She nodded. "Oh . . . Is that the fashion in South Korea or something?"

"Yes," I answered, "lots of girls wear the brown lenses, or even black."

"Sweet, maybe I should get some sometime," she said as we made our way to the Cafeteria hallway. "My eyes are already pretty massive, though . . ."

"Well . . . They do have the lens that are 14 millimeter . . . That is the normal eye size for most . . ."

"Oh, awesome!" she said with a big grin. "We'll have to hang out sometime, and you can show me how to get some. I'm assuming we get them online. Anyway, whatever, I'm hungry. Let's get some food!"

We entered the Cafeteria and for the first time, I didn't feel alone in the crowd of faces that looked up at us as we entered. The raucous laughter and loud chatter from students enjoying their free period was still jarring and gave me a bit of anxiety, but I felt somewhat stronger with a new friend by my side. I didn't look like the lonely new girl anymore. I looked like I actually fit in.

I followed Kairi to the lunch line and listened to her muse over what to get to eat. She asked me if I was getting anything, but I lied and said that I had already eaten. She selected a piece of pepperoni pizza and a soda, and we headed for an empty spot at one of the many long lunch tables.

"Let's just sit here," Kairi said, choosing one of the only open spots. It was beside some people who looked pretty invested in their homework and lunches, so they didn't even look up when we sat down. Kairi began to mow down on her food, and I noticed her gazing around at everyone else in the room as we sat there.

"I like to look at everybody," she said around a mouthful of food. "Half of these idiots would throw their own friends under a bus if it meant popularity or attention. Man, I hate high school."

"Why do you say such things?" I asked curiously.

She shrugged and took a gulp of her pop. "I've seen some things . . . My boyfriend is a football player at Central, and we've been through a lot of shit since we got together. Basically, people think football players should automatically date other sporty girls, like cheerleaders or whatever . . . But Sora chose me, and people didn't like that."

"Are you in a sport?" I asked.

"Nah," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "I'm more of what you would call a 'free spirit' . . . I'm just going to school so I can graduate and go to beauty school. I'm really into make-up and hair." She grinned. "I know you can't tell since I'm so plain today, but I don't really dress up at school."

I nodded. "I understand. I have alternative goals as well . . . I want to become a singer, but I am not sure if I am good enough to do so."

She looked at me. "Well, did you try out for Choir? The Choir here is pretty prestigious—it's a good way to get your foot in the door!"

I smiled. "Yes, I was awarded solo for Winter Concert. Mrs. Waldemeier gave to me."

Kairi slammed her soda can down on the table, splattering a few droplets on her plate. She stared at me with a big, open-mouthed grin and twinkling eyes.

"Are you _serious_? The teacher just _gave_ it to you?!"

I nodded, unable to keep myself from smiling. I guess it _was _pretty cool that I was given a solo purely on raw talent, when everyone else had been practicing and auditioning for days. "I went in to try out just for Choir, and she awarded me solo as well!" I informed Kairi.

"Oh my _gosh_," Kairi said excitedly. "You have _no _idea how awesome this is. Not only do you _rock_, girl, but you're helping me get some revenge. Muahaha!"

"Revenge?"

She smirked. "I don't suppose you've heard of the biggest bitch in California, Namine Lightle?"

I gasped and gave her a pointed look. "I do not think she like me very much . . ."

"Damn straight she doesn't like you," Kairi agreed with a short, bitter laugh. "Namine doesn't like you _or_ me—she doesn't like anybody who gets in the way of what she wants. She's gotten the solo every year since ninth grade, and everyone knows that it's basically hers. And then you swooped in out of nowhere and took it from her . . . She probably wants to beat the shit out of you, but she also probably won't. She's a little puss. And once she finds out you're friends with me now, she wouldn't dare mess with you."

I scratched the back of my head. "Why does she dislike you?"

Kairi rolled her eyes and smiled like a cat that had been caught getting into his cat food bag. "Little Miss Lightle the head cheerleader likes to have huge house parties at her parents' mansion, and she likes to leave her expensive purses out in the open. If you're gonna be a God damn idiot and leave a hot pink Betsey Johnson tote out in the middle of your house, I'm gonna take it." She wriggled her fingers conspiratorially and gave me a mischievous wink. "I'm known around town to be quite the pickpocket, hehe."

I raised my eyebrows, thinking back to the many times my Korean friends and I had shoplifted when we were younger.

"So . . . Then why would she not, how you say? 'Mess' with me if she is to discover our friendship?" I asked, knowing my English sounded terrible, but not knowing how else to word it.

Kairi laughed. "Because she knows I can kick her ass." She chugged the last of her soda and wiggled her eyebrows at me. "And if I did it once, I can do it again."

My mouth dropped. Kairi was so tiny . . . Namine was not fat or big or thick by any means, but she was athletic and tall, most likely due to being a cheerleader, as Kairi had just said. I _had _to hear this story.

"You fought her?" I whispered, almost as if Namine were going to hear us gossiping.

Kairi nodded enthusiastically and leaned in close to me, her pizza forgotten. "Hell yeah, I fought the bitch. I fought the bitch, and I won." She grinned again. "All right, dude, so we were all at this party. She came with my boyfriend, his cousin, and I, because she was dating his cousin for like, fifty million years and completely crazy obsessed with him." Kairi was talking fast out of excitement, and I could barely understand her English, but I did my best to keep up.

"Anyway," she went on, "so we're all hanging out at this party last year, and there's kids from both Central and Midtown there, and everyone is having a good time . . . Except Namine. She's fucking crazy, so she sees this girl looking at her boyfriend and she _completely _flips her shit. I mean, _seriously_, she's like screaming at the poor girl—who was only fifteen, by the way, and one of the nicest girls ever. She was like pushing her and slapping her head. I mean, God, it was insane. So, since I'm a crazy bitch, too, I grab her by the hair and fucking _yank_ that bitch backward." Kairi's eyes lit up, and I could definitely tell she was proud of this story.

"So Namine falls onto the ground and she's like cussing at me, all pissed, and so before she can get up, I get on top of her and just start _wailing_ on her. She was like, bleeding all over her face and her shirt was ripped, hair messed up—the whole shebang." Kairi took a bite of her pizza. "Long story short, Sora had to pull me off, but he was laughing of course because he's always hated her. Namine's boyfriend had to take her home, and ever since then, Namine has steered clear of me. Before that, she was constantly making snappy remarks and underhanded insults whenever we hung out with Sora and his cousin. But eh, whatever—no love lost."

"What did her boyfriend say about you fighting her? Was he angry?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Roxas? Psh, no way. That guy is crazier than me. I mean, sure he was really helpful to her because he loved her at the time, but I'm sure he was just as glad as everyone else that someone gave that bitch a proper ass-kicking. She acts like she runs the entire world."

My eyes went wide. Could she be talking about the same Roxas that I was partnered up with? I opened my mouth to ask her about it, but I was cut short by the obnoxious ringing of the bell that signaled the end of lunch.

Kairi placed a dainty hand on my arm. "You'll have to save it for later, hun. I gotta get to my next class on time or I'm gonna get detention."

I perked up. "Mr. Melden gave me detention for after school on Friday . . . I was late to his class yesterday."

"Holy shit . . . You have Mr. Melden? You must be in his Trig class," she said as we stood up. "He teaches Sophomore and Junior math, too, so that must be why I have him. I have him for Algebra II. But anyway, I'm always late. He told me one more time and he was suspending me." She smiled. "I have detention this Friday, too. Looks like I'll be seeing you there, along with the regulars."

"The regulars?"

"Oh, you know—the people who get detention every single Friday. It's only the second week of school, and I already know I'm going to end up being one! I definitely was at Central . . . Anyway, the other regulars are regulars from previous years here. They're kinda like my friends now, so I'll introduce you when we come to it . . . Anyway, hate to leave, but I've got to go! I'll meet you in front of the Caf tomorrow for lunch, and we can exchange numbers then!"

I nodded and raised my hand to give her a little wave. I stifled a gasp, however, as she surprised me with a big, enveloping hug. In Korea, we didn't get into each other's personal space like that . . . I was a little put off, but I knew that I was in a different country with a different culture.

"Bye, girlie!" she said before dashing off into the crowd.

A soft smile remained plastered to my face as I turned to head in the opposite direction for my English class.

I smelled the beginning of my first friendship in America!

x-x-x

**A/N: So there we have it. Roxas still has his disease, we got the backstory of Namine that remained relatively the same, and no real changes beyond the fact that Xion is Korean now. See you next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

**UPDATE: July 3****rd****, 2014! Yep, another update two minutes after the last one. But like I said, these chapters are all completed, they just need editing. I'll get on with it, then.**

**A/N: Be prepared. This chapter has a massive trigger warning. It contains graphic descriptions of sexual abuse and physical abuse at the end. Please skip this chapter if these things upset you!**

* * *

**Chapter Three – Progress? Perhaps Not.**

_Xion's POV_

Glancing down at my cell phone, I saw that I had a text from my new friend as of a few days ago, Kairi. I smiled a little bit, glad to have made a friend in America that I got along with _and _who made me laugh. I quickly typed out a reply and then slipped it back into my pocket. Looked like our usual lunchtime meeting place for the past couple of days had changed and I was in the wrong spot. This was normal for Kairi because her mind was as fiery as her hair, and her decisions were quick and somewhat random. Still, she was a great girl and our personalities seemed to compliment each other. I was content, to say the least, which was better than I had been before I met her.

I set off for the front steps of the school, where she was supposedly waiting. Across the cafeteria, I caught a quick glimpse of Namine and her large group of friends laughing at their table. I looked away quickly, ducking my head in the hopes that the blonde hadn't seen me. She definitely wasn't giving off positive vibes toward me in Choir and according to Kairi, Namine most likely would never forgive me for "stealing" her solo. If she saw me watching her from across the room, she'd just have more fuel for her fires of hatred.

If there was one thing that was similar between my former Korean high school and my new American one, it was the female hierarchy of the students. There was always going to be a leader of the pack—that one girl who was on top, who would never be dethroned by anyone else. Others were mere ants beneath her feet, and there were many who would give anything just to get the queen bee to acknowledge their presence. At my old school, I had definitely been at the top of the stepladder, being best friends with the most popular girl in school. Now that I was in a whole new world, it seemed that I had faded into the background. My mother's death and stepfather's constant abuse had gotten the better of me, changing me from a sprightly girl to a quiet wallflower.

Did Namine sense this in me? Did Kairi? Roxas? Anybody? Did it affect the way they regarded me, whether it be kindly or unkindly? It was hard for me to tell. In Korea, it was easy to read another's character by their tone of voice and the way they spoke to the people around them. Here in America, it was nearly impossible to tell if someone liked you or disliked you—they could be dishonest as easily as they could be honest with the quick turn of a phrase. There was no way for me to be sure if Namine really hated me or if Kairi truly wanted to be my friend. I had to just wing it and hope I'd made the right decisions.

"Hey . . . !"

I froze in the middle of the hallway, and turned around to see none other than the object of my previous thoughts.

Namine Lightle was standing alone behind me with a very large, very fake smile on her face.

"You're the new girl, right? From Japan?" she said brightly, with so much pep and sugar in her voice that it was sickening.

I nervously eyed her and adjusted the strap on my bag. What in the world could she possibly have to say to _me_, the girl who had "stolen" her solo?

"I am from South Korea," I said quietly in reply. "I am Xion."

"Xion, right, I know," she said with another quick smile. She placed her hands on her tiny hips. She was wearing a strapless white sundress and white sandals, and her blonde hair was effortlessly curled, hanging almost to her elbows. I felt like a bug beneath a magnifying glass, ugly and unworthy next to her beauty.

"Anyway," she went on, "I just wanted to meet you, and let you know that there's no hard feelings. Do you understand?"

My face screwed up in confusion. "Understand what?"

Her smile turned to a look of wide-eyed innocence. "I mean, your English doesn't sound all that perfect . . . I was just making sure you understood what I was saying?"

My heart skipped a beat. I knew enough English to be able to "_understand_" that she was being a bitch. Hell, she was probably lying about the "no hard feelings." She most likely had a _lot _of hard feelings towards me.

"Oh . . ." I said icily, glad that we were alone in the hallway. "Thanks, I guess?"

"Yeah, totally!" she said brightly. She turned to go, then froze. "Oh, and . . . It's okay for you to like Roxas, you know, but I wouldn't trust him. He's kind of a player."

"Roxas?" My eyes snapped to her. So she _was _his ex . . . "What do you mean?"

Namine twirled a random curl through her fingers and looked me up and down. "I know it's easy for someone like you to like someone like him, but I would just be wary. He's not that nice of a guy."

"He seems nice to me," I said a little bit defensively. The nerve of this girl, telling me who I could like and who I couldn't wasn't appalling. And what did she mean by "someone like me?"

She shrugged. "Don't freak out. I'm just looking out for you. You seem like a nice girl, and nice girls don't belong with douche bag guys."

I longed to snap back at her that she wasn't a nice girl herself, but I kept my mouth shut. I was fuming at the sneakiness and underhandedness of her idea of "looking out for me." She was looking at me as if I weren't as good as her—as if a guy as attractive as Roxas could never like someone as unremarkable as me. How dare she put me down?

Now I saw why Kairi despised her so much.

"I'll catch you later," she said with another fake smile.

I watched her go, and she turned at the last moment.

"Good luck on that solo, by the way." Twinkling eyes, bright grin. "You've got a lot to live up to, _Xion_."

With that, she wandered back off toward the Cafeteria. I couldn't let another second go by, scrambling to get my phone and start a new text message.

I _had_ to tell Kairi about this!

x-x-x

_Roxas's POV_

Detention. Again. Christ, could I go one week without getting in trouble?! I suppose it was to be expected, though, since I _really_ despised following the rules. I was a natural-born troublemaker: it was nearly impossible for me to sit in my seat in class in complete, attentive silence, twiddling my thumbs while adults spouted off nonsense. School and I weren't the best of friends, you see.

It was Thursday and I was currently standing in front of my Biology teacher's desk (I had failed Bio in Freshman year, so they were forcing me to retake it now as my third class of the day), listening to him berate me about my tardiness, laziness with homework, and inability to pay attention in class. I merely took it all in with a blank expression on my face. I was completely aware of my incompetence. This guy didn't know me left from right, so who was he to judge me? I was working hard to keep my hands clean and do better for my parents and sisters, not to please a bunch of stuffy school officials.

At the thought of my family, I couldn't stop my mouth from quirking up in a little half-smile. The night before, the twins had burst into my room while I was staring futilely at the book for my AP English book report. They came with a song and dance routine that they had made up just for me. It was entirely in Korean, and the cutest damn thing I had ever seen—more so because it _wasn't _the Big Butt _Oppa _song for once. They had then promised to make me dessert after dinner, which I politely declined. Dessert made by two six-year-olds just plain isn't safe to consume. Instead, _I _made _them _dessert, and then I let them sleep in my room that night so I could tell them scary stories. I loved my sisters, and that was one of the main reasons why I was trying to make amends for my mistakes. Just because this teacher thought my inattentiveness in _his _class meant that I would amount to nothing in life, did _not _mean that it was true.

Fuck him.

"So you think this is _funny_, Mr. Park?" The teacher snarled in regards to my half-smirk. "You just booked yourself a first class ticket to Friday detention for the next three weeks. Now, how funny is _that_?"

I opened my mouth to retort, but froze before the words could even leave my mouth. I felt a familiar feeling welling up in the pits of my stomach, burning intensely, as if someone were placing a hot poker against numerous spots in my intestines. My face screwed up in pain and I placed a hand gingerly against my abdomen, doubling over. This hadn't happened since Summer . . . Why was it happening now?

"Oh, so now you fake sick?" the teacher scowled. "Typical of students like you. How do you ever expect to get anywhere in life? Faking sick won't help you graduate, and it certainly won't get you out of detention."

I wanted to deck him in the face. He had no idea the amount of agony that I was experiencing. He had no idea the amount of agony that I had been dealing with all my life.

"Get out of my sight, Park!" the teacher said, waving a hand toward the door.

Wordlessly, I turned to go, took one step, and projectile vomited a small amount of dark blood all over his linoleum floor. I heard him gasp in horror, then run to his classroom door to yell for help in the hallway. I groaned in agony as I retched again, splashes of my life's fluid spewing from within me like lava from a volcano.

I hated this . . . I hated that it was normal. I hated that they were all going to panic and call the ambulance, unnecessarily costing my family more money in bills we couldn't afford. ZES was incurable and this vomiting blood and stomach pain was commonplace, so it made the 911 call all the more pointless. I hated myself for what I had done to myself and to my family. I hated all of it. As these thoughts whirled around in my head, I was throwing up all over the teacher's floor, screaming as the searing burning only seemed to grow.

"Call the ambulance!" the teacher yelled out the door once again. "Someone, please help us!" He dashed back to my side and put an arm around my shoulders, helping me to stay upright even though we were on our knees. I hardly felt his touch, as the pain was rising to such a crescendo that I could barely stand it.

This would stay with me for the rest of my life.

Everything else became a blur. The paramedics were called and I soon found myself back in a hospital bed looking at the faces of the doctors and nurses that I had come to know well over the course of my life. My father and mother both showed up at the same time, pale-faced with worry but calm, for they knew that this wasn't out of the ordinary. Pillows were placed behind me to keep my back straight, though thankfully the vomiting of the stomach blood had stopped.

The doctor, Dr. Strife, gave me a stern look. His unruly blonde spikes were slicked back today, only a few strands falling stubbornly forward into his eyes. He looked young, as he always did, and his smile was an anchor that I constantly found myself holding to keep myself from completely giving up.

"I have to say, I'm actually surprised to see you here this time, Rox," he said, using his nickname for me.

"Why?" I replied hoarsely, giving him a crooked smile. "Didn't you miss me this time?" I tasted blood in every inch of my mouth, and it was so regular to me that it was depressing. It stained parts of my face and had even gotten into my hair.

Dr. Strife placed his clipboard with my medical papers on it onto the bedside table and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Rox, you know what I mean. You were doing extremely well these past few months. I hardly had to see you when you were in juvy. Why are you here right now?"

I shrugged and tossed my head to get my bangs out of my azure eyes. "Dunno," I replied. My eyes snapped sharply to my parents waiting anxiously outside the door to my room, then to him. "I'm not using again, if that's what you're saying."

He gave me a long, hard look. "You'd better not. It was only making your illness worse, especially the pill-popping. Don't you remember what I told you? Excessive pill use can tear at your stomach lining, and you already don't have much lining left to tear. Antibiotics or not, too much of it can have the opposite effect of healing."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled. "I know all that, but it's irrelevant right now. It would only be relevant if I were popping pills, which I'm fucking not, so why don't you give me some damn credit? Shit . . ."

He sighed heavily and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Roxas. I don't doubt that you're telling me the truth. I know you're trying your hardest to change. I just want to make sure you're aware of the dangers you face."

I gave him a small smile. "Don't worry, Cloud," I said, using his first name. "I'm doing much better. I honestly don't know why I started throwing up blood . . . Your best guess is as good as mine. And I'm guessing it's just one of my ulcers acting up."

Dr. Strife chuckled a little bit and reached for his clipboard. "Fortunately for you, at this hospital, we don't run off best guesses, Rox. What we're gonna do for you is run some standard tests: bloodwork, X-ray, CT Scan, the usual . . . I'm sure you haven't already forgotten."

I waved a dismissive hand and laid my head back against the pillows, closing my eyes. Of course I hadn't forgotten. These "standard tests" had become as much a part of my life as brushing my teeth, or using the bathroom. I was no longer afraid of needles or scalpels. I was used to going under the knife and having things removed from my insides. Anything he said he was going to do wasn't going to shock me.

"Anyway," he continued. "I'll send my wife in to take your blood, and then we'll get you prepped for the CT Scan."

His wife, Nurse Aerith Strife, entered almost immediately after, already prepared with the rolling tray of needles, cotton balls, and test tubes. Her long brown braid fell over the front of her shoulder and her sparkling emerald eyes were always a source of comfort in the never-ending sea of hopelessness that was my life. She smiled warmly at me.

"Welcome back, Roxas, honey," she said somewhat sadly. "Sorry, but I've got to poke you a couple times."

"Meh, no problem, Aerith," I sighed. "Used to it, you know."

She gave me another smile before she swabbed my forearm with rubbing alcohol to sterilize the skin. As she worked, she eyed me somewhat warily.

"What?" I said, barely flinching as the first needle drew blood.

"I'm just worried, is all," she said, exchanging fleeting glances with Dr. Strife as he headed for the door to let my parents in.

"Worried?" I replied curiously, suspicious of why the spouses had look at each other like that. "You're always worried about me."

"I know . . ." She trailed off as she screwed the lid on the first test tube filled with my crimson blood. She reached for the second needle. "It's just that though this is normal for you, it's something we should really be careful to check on often. This could really be serious. You have gastrinomas in your body, Roxas, and you know what kind of turn they could take for the worse." She frowned. "You could be really sick; sicker than we thought. I'm just worried, and I think you should be extremely careful after today."

"Aerith, dear," Dr. Strife said as he came up next to her. "Don't scare him. He's probably fine. This is probably an episode just like any other." He glanced up and waved my parents over to the other side of my bed.

My mother sat down next to me and held my hand tightly. Her black hair was pulled up into a loose bun and she had flour on her nose. She must have rushed straight from cooking something, for our family owned a Korean restaurant on the affluent side of the city. It was a very successful business and my parents did an excellent job running it together, but with the medical expenses I was constantly acquiring, it was a daunting task for them to have to constantly be "catching up."

"_Oma_," I said with a roll of my eyes at the sight of tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm fine, it's okay. Don't cry. _Aissh_ . . ."

My father stepped closer to me and ruffled my hair. "We just love you, that's all." He looked to the doctor. "Now, Dr. Strife, what were you saying was going to have to be done this time?"

Dr. Strife said, "Well, aside from the bloodwork and the X-Ray, I think we're going to give him a CT scan . . . Just to be safe."

I sighed. I hated CT scans. They were extremely boring, and they meant that I was staying the night at the hospital.

However, there was one bright light . . .

"Does this mean I get out of detention tomorrow?" I said with a mischievous grin and a devious wriggle of my eyebrows.

"_Aigoo_, you got detention again?!" my mother wailed, her eyes blazing in an almost comical way.

My father rolled his eyes. "Dear Lord, son."

Dr. Strife laughed, "No, don't worry—you'll be right as rain tomorrow, and perfectly capable of attending detention. Sorry, Rox."

"_If _we don't find anything wrong with him, of course," Nurse Strife spoke up with a finger pointed up in the air. "I'm not taking any chances. Cloud, if you see even _one _thing that looks like it doesn't belong inside that boy's body, you better keep him as long as it takes to figure out how to fix it, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dr. Strife grinned.

"Good," she huffed. "Now, I'm going to take these to be processed. I'll see you later tonight, Roxas. Nice seeing you, Mr. and Mrs. Park!"

"Oh, as always!" My father gushed, giving her a wave. "We will all have to have dinner at the restaurant sometime soon."

"Of course!" Nurse Strife said, waving back as she left the room.

I turned to address my parents, feeling a bit guilty. I didn't want them to think that my having received detention meant that I was regressing.

"Listen . . ." I started.

My father held up a hand for silence and gave me a warm smile. "Don't worry about it, son. Just try to relax, and we'll be right outside the room."

". . . _Kamsahamnida, appa_," I replied, returning the hug that my mother then proceeded to give me. A few moments later, they were gone, followed by Dr. Strife to go get things ready for my X-Ray.

I was left alone with my thoughts.

x-x-x

_Xion's POV_

I never knew fear as a child. As a young girl, there was never anything _to _fear. My parents were wealthy, and I had everything I could ever want or need. All I had to do was ask. Though my parents had separated at a young age, we were still a loving family. I was raised in an entirely Christian home and up until my mother remarried, my life had been simple and normal: go to school, get good grades, maybe have sleepovers or shopping trips with my friends, go to church, be respectful. Easy.

But then my mother got sick, and things weren't as easy anymore.

My older sister Yuffie who was 16 at the time our mother fell ill, immediately moved back in with us (she had been living with our father in America), dropped out of school, and devoted her time to taking care of our mother. My stepfather, who had been a wonderful partner for my mother and excellent father figure for me, seemed to be around a lot more often, spending more time with my mother, Yuffie, and I than at the office. Everyone seemed to predict the inevitable—that she was going to pass away—and we all just wanted to come together as much as we could before the end.

Little did I know, I was to finally know the true meaning of fear.

Walking into my house after school, I usually had no worries. My stepfather didn't usually come home until late at night, and I had the maids to keep me company while I did my homework, wandered around the mansion, or went for a walk out on the estate. I had plenty of alone time to myself in the afternoons and evenings, so I experienced no fear or worry.

Until the times that the front door slammed shut.

A slammed front door usually meant one of many things: My stepfather could be drunk after an evening out with co-workers or friends; he could be angry at a case that he didn't particularly want to deal with; he could be feeling depressed about my mother and wanting to take it out on me. Sometimes, though rarely, he could even come home high on some unknown drug. Those were the worst times. He always came home angry with me, but those times were the times when he blamed me for everything that had ever gone wrong in the whole entire world. Those times were the worst beatings.

Those times were what had taught me the meaning of fear.

Today was no different from any other return home from school. One of the maids, Pak Su Jin, greeted me in Korean at the door and took my shoes for me, then asked me how my day went. We walked to the kitchen together while I animatedly told her in our native language about meeting Kairi a few days ago, and the friendship we had already fostered. I also joked with her about me getting detention and she seemed amusedly shocked.

"You? Detention? Our Xion? My, oh my," Su Jin giggled, her effortless black waves moving with her laughter. "Well, I hope everything else in school is going well for you . . . I better get back to sweeping the front entryway before your stepfather gets home."

I waved goodbye and entered the kitchen to grab myself a Diet Pepsi, the only soda I allowed myself to drink. I hadn't eaten all day and my stomach was grumbling quite loudly. Normally, I didn't drink or consume _anything_, but due to meeting Kairi a couple of days before, my spirits had risen a little bit. I had decided to allow myself a soda in celebration (it had 0 calories anyway). Maybe later, I'd eat some celery since that was void of calories as well.

In fact, my spirits were up so high that I almost felt like myself again. I wanted to skip all the way back to my room and see if Kairi had texted me yet, like she had told me she would do before we parted ways at school that day. I wanted to go into my bedroom and plug my iPod in so I could practice singing like I used to. I might even dance around my room while I did so. I wanted to actually _do_ something other than sit in my bed and sleep or cry.

I popped open the top of the soda and took a swig, relishing in the sweet fizzy taste. I hummed a song to myself from a Korean drama I sometimes liked to watch on my laptop, and headed back through the hallway for the stairs. I didn't realize that my face was against the floor until after my soda had been smacked out of my hand. Dazed, my brain furiously worked to try and figure out what the Hell had just happened as I just lie there on the floor like a confused, broken ragdoll.

"_Mweo . . . _?" I moaned, the taste of my own blood in my mouth.

Su Jin came into view, a mop in hand. She carefully avoided my gaze and kept her head down. Upon seeing this, it clicked.

My stepfather had come home early.

Clutching my hands to my stinging nose, I scrambled to my feet and turned to face him, standing in the hall. His face was calm, but his eyes glowed icy blue with rage.

"Don't say a word," he said quietly in Korean to me. Though he was originally from England, we only spoke Korean in the house. I'm not really sure why—maybe it was a comfort thing for him, since it reminded him of my mother. All I knew for sure was that the one time I spoke English to him, he smacked me across the face at the dinner table. Logically, I never spoke it to him again. It was an unspoken rule that I knew better than to break a second time.

He ran a hand tiredly through his wavy blond hair. "Your _oma _would be extremely disappointed in you," he said. "Detention, Xion? Unacceptable. You shame me, disrespect your mother, and embarrass this family."

"_Mianhae . . ."_ I said thickly, tears flooding my eyes. I was useless. I was a waste of space. An "embarrassment to the family," as he'd said. Why not cry about it?

He put his hands on his hips and watched me silently sob for a moment. Then, his hand lashed out once again, catching me hard on the left cheekbone. I flinched away from him, my head spinning in agony as he did it a second time.

"I got a call from your school," he growled. "Interrupting me in _my _work day to tell me that basically, my daughter is a failure." He grabbed me forcefully by the upper arm and I whimpered in pain. "And now, here you sit, crying because you're in trouble. You don't care about me, or this family. You're selfish." He slapped me again and again, until I collapsed to the floor on my knees, dizzy from the loss of blood from my nose.

"Pak Su Jin!" he barked after glaring at me for a second more. "Help her get cleaned up and then lock her in her bedroom. No dinner tonight."

I watched him go, feeling only a small amount of triumph at the inner knowledge that him restricting my dinner privilege was not a bother to me _at all_. Hell, I wasn't going to eat dinner _anyway_, and even if he had forced me to sit down to a family dinner, I would have exercised it all off in my room.

It gave me satisfaction to know that my awful stepfather couldn't win at all things.

As Su Jin gently helped me up from the floor, I desperately hoped that the small bit of triumph would be enough to get me through what was sure to come tonight.

x-x-x

Wiping my eyes, I stared at myself in the mirror. My face was bruised from the hits I had sustained earlier. I'd been laying in my pillows and stuffed animals for hours, dreading the upcoming night, regretting being born, missing my mother, and hating myself for being such a screw up.

I wanted to punch the mirror. I _hated _what I was looking at. I _despised _who I was, what I looked like, and the appearance of my body. I had removed my clothes and was standing there in nothing but my bra and underwear, wondering when the Earth was going to finally cave beneath my feet and swallow me whole. I felt so low, so sad, and so angry at myself. So many feelings were attacking me at once that my heart was beginning to flutter wildly and my self-hatred levels were raising by the second.

I ripped open the top drawer next to the sink and searched manically for my scissors. I forced them open, held out my right arm, and began to viciously slice new wounds on top of the old, barely-healed ones. There were so many scars adorning my porcelain flesh that it was almost impossible to find a bare spot to cut, so I always found myself laying open old wounds.

This was nothing new to me. I was worthless, and so I deserved to be hurt. I was useless, and so I deserved to bleed. I was less than nothing, and so I utterly and completely deserved to be cut into like I was a piece of raw meat.

I watched the crimson blood well up in the gaping wounds, felt the sharp stinging and agonizing throbbing, and the euphoria set in. I plopped down on the linoleum floor, my hair falling forward over my shoulders. I quickly grabbed the roll of toilet paper nearby and wrapped it around my arm until it was completely covered and blood no longer seeped through the paper. I sighed and began to weep again.

"Why is this happening to me?" I sobbed, barely able to get a breath in. "Why?"

Why couldn't it have turned out some other way?

A creak outside my bathroom door instantly made me go silent. I sniffled as I struggled to regain control, and then I hurried to get up and go to the door. I pressed my ear to it and tried to listen, but I heard nothing. My trembling hand then hovered over the doorknob, and I debated locking myself in all night.

Visuals of my enraged, drunk stepfather breaking down the bathroom door terrified me and I knew it was better to leave it unlocked. I was so terrified of him raping me that I allowed him to touch me and make me touch him, all because I believed that if I complied, he wouldn't try to take my virginity. I felt disgusting. Like a worthless whore and sick freak since it was incest by marriage, but at the same time, I knew it wasn't my fault.

Or did I?

What if it _was _my fault? What if my stepfather was only doing this to me because of something I had done to screw up? Was it something I was saying or doing? _Was it all my fault?_

I heard another creak and my heart skipped a beat. Terror turned my veins to ice and my entire body began to shake all over. I just wanted _one night_. _One fucking night _to myself without him invading my body. I hated this so much. I hated everything about my life. I just wanted peace. _I just wanted __peace__._

A slow knock came at the door.

"Xiooooon," he drunkenly slurred through the wood. "I know you're iiiiin theeerrree . . . Cummon . . . Lemme in so I can apologize to you for earlier . . ."

I closed my eyes and hugged myself. My arms screamed in protest and I anxiously tightened my makeshift bandages.

"_A-Annyeo_." I stammered. "G-Go away!"

Silence.

"Xion," he slowly said. "I said I wanted to apologize . . . You were the one who made me mad and I'm the one who is apologizing. You're gonna be ungrateful?"

I silently cursed myself, wondering why I had even bothered to try and stand up for myself. It never got me anywhere. It always ended up in me getting hurt physically or emotionally. I knew that if I didn't open that damn door, he was going to come in and do things to me right there on the bathroom. I didn't want to have to see my shame, so I knew it was better to go out into my dark bedroom. Both options were awful, but at least if it were dark, I wouldn't have to see the look on his face as he violated me.

My hand shaking, I turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door. I stared downward and tried not to flinch as he reached down to tuck my hair behind my ears, knowing what would happen to me if I did. I felt horrid, but I knew I had no choice but to comply.

As usual, he hauled me across the room, pushed me onto my bed, and started tearing off my clothes. At the scent of the alcohol on his breath, a wave of nausea threatened to make me throw up. I blinked away tears as the cool air hit my naked skin.

I was disgusting and worthless. Nothing but a mere toy for him to play with as he saw fit. As his hands caressed my breasts, I wanted nothing more than to die.

Sometimes I imagined myself into the form of a phoenix. Majestic, beautiful, and strong, I could die in a bittersweet burst of anguished flames only to be reborn by the golden light of Heaven. I would have a brand new body, gorgeous new feathers, and a truer love of life and the good things it had to offer. For I knew there was good in this world, I just had yet to experience it. I longed so desperately for that new life and new body that I often found myself praying to Jesus for my death, hoping that I could maybe see my mother. I dreamed that she was already there, in Heaven, waiting for me. Maybe she was sitting at God's side, both of them watching from afar with a plan to rescue me from the Hellhole I was in. Maybe they were just waiting for the right time, forging me a new soul and body so that when the flames overtook me, I could swoop right into it and gain true clarity and pure happiness.

I knew it was all just a silly fantasy, though.

I wasn't a phoenix, nor would I ever be. My body was unfit to be reborn by any means. My mother was dead, rotting in the soil. My stepfather was going to continue to abuse me until one day, he would most likely go too far and take my virginity or my life. There would be no sweet release from pain for me. I was stuck right where I was and I was going to die miserable, just like I felt like I deserved. I was going to starve and cut myself to death, and I would never reach that state of euphoria I so longed for.

'_And so it must be . . .' _I thought to myself as the tears rolled unchecked down my cheeks, and my narcissistic stepfather took from me what he felt entitled to have.

x-x-x

**A/N: Not much had to be changed in this chapter, which is why I put it up so quickly! See you next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**UPDATE: July 3****rd****, 2014! Okay, last update for today because I gotta go to bed. Tomorrow, I'll try to do three more chapters! Thanks for dropping by, everyone!**

**NOTE: **_**Hajimasaeyo **_**means stop. **_**Jaebal **_**means please. **_**Dongsaeng **_**is an affectionate term for someone younger than you. **_**Mianahae **_**means sorry.**

**A/N: So this chapter has a small trigger warning. There's a tiny sexual assault in here, but nothing graphic at all. But the events leading up to it could be triggering. **

**Chapter Four – Unanswered Cries, Part One**

_Roxas's POV_

'_Fuck, this is gonna suck_,' I thought to myself as I headed down the hallway toward the detention room. It was located on the bottom level of the school in an old classroom that had been meant for something or another back when the school had first been built. Most of the lockers and classrooms in this hall hadn't been used for decades and they were dark and dusty. Honestly, it reeked of old trash and moldy fruit.

In the previous school years, detention was always held in the bottom level. The teacher was different yet the same every week: a young, hardheaded cop fresh out of the academy who thought he knew everything, so the precinct passed him off to the school just to get him to shut his mouth. The cop was usually arrogant and harsh, and very angry at the world for not letting him do "cool policeman things."

In short, detention was a nightmare.

I entered the room with the usual nonchalant look on my face, my bag slung over my shoulder in a relaxed way. I glanced at the desk at the front of the room. Yep. Just another twenty-something ready to make us all suffer. I eyed him disdainfully.

"And who might you be?" he said in a sickly-sweet tone, flashing me a sarcastic no-teeth smile. He tapped the sheet of names that was on the desk with a pen.

"Roxas Park," I said back in that same fake-happy voice. "And what is _your _name, Mr. Big Scary Cop Guy?"

His eyes twinkled and his smile got even more ridiculous. "My name is The Guy Who's Gonna Kick Your Ass if You Don't Sit the Fuck Down. Now sit, doggie, sit."

I wanted to beat the shit out of him already.

With one last false smile, I turned to go find a seat at the back of the room so I could be as far from this douche bag as possible. I nodded to a couple of kids that recognized from last year's weekly detentions, looked at the few new kids, and plopped down in a random desk near the far left corner.

Damn, it really _did _smell like moldy fruit and old trash in here.

I unzipped my backpack and rummaged through it, looking for something to do for the two hours I was sentenced to be here. I knew I'd better not pull out my _ipod_ and risk the police officer confiscating it, so instead I pulled out the notebook I used to compose piano music in. I assumed it would be smart to do _something _productive, so maybe it would be smart to work on bettering my composition for the Choir concert. There were a few notes that needed tweaking, anyway.

I snuck a quick peek at my phone in my lap when the officer's head was down, looking to see if I had received any text messages. One from Sora about some random encounter with a hot Starbucks employee, one from my father telling me to make sure I took it easy after my ordeal, and one from Sora's girlfriend and my best friend Kairi asking me to remember to bring her pipe to school on Monday, which she had forgotten at my house over the Summer.

Then, as if a lightbulb had switched on in my head, I realized I had yet to message Xion. I still needed to text her and solidify the plans for us to meet that weekend. We had a lot of work to do and I really _was _excited to work with her since she had _such _a beautiful voice. As a fellow musician, of course.

I was excited to have the excuse to stare at her gorgeous face as well, oh ho _ho_.

I smirked to myself. Not since Namine had a girl's beauty captivated me so much as to want to spend time _talking _to her. Usually, I was the "hit it and quit it type," not really seeing the point in women as equal partners after the way Namine had treated me. But Xion just seemed really cool and very different from other girls. If I had anything to say about it, I would have her by the end of the month. I sent her a quick _"Hey_" with a smiley face, and then I slipped my phone back into the pocket of my light blue skinny jeans. Finally, I opened my notebook and reviewed the notes of my composition, sounding them out in my head.

Fifteen minutes later, footsteps and female laughter could be heard coming from a ways down the hall. Everyone in the room looked up and gazed expectantly at the door except me. I didn't really care to see who it was. I was neck-deep in my composition, crossing things out and scrawling notes and reminders all over the empty spaces. The door opened rather loudly and the unknown girls came stumbling in, breathless from running.

"Sorry we're late, Mr. Police Officer, sir," a playful, bubbly tone rang out, drawing the attention of every boy in the room. "I do hope you're not going to arrest us . . . ?"

The officer sighed heavily. "Make sure you're on time next time, girls. Names?"

"Kaaaaairi," the first girl trilled, causing me to look up. I was amused to see her standing there, twirling her crimson hair and flirting with the cop. Typical Kairi. Next to her, I was _definitely_ surprised to see Xion standing there. Wouldn't have pictured her the type to get in trouble . . . Oh, well, I wasn't complainin'. Two hours in an old classroom with her was going to seem like two hours in a beautiful lake house.

"And who might you be?" the officer said, the look on his face one of obvious appreciation. He was looking at Xion as if she was a piece of delicious cake and he was doing nothing to disguise it. I rolled my eyes. Great. Another detention teacher with boundary issues. Last year, one of the cops had gotten caught with one of the students in the bathroom. My Freshman year, another cop had tried to molest one of my classmates at the end of detention, too. He had followed her out of the school building since she was straggling behind, and luckily, her parents had come to pick her up and needless to say, he got arrested by his co-workers. It was sad when I thought about it, actually. Why the Hell did they keep hiring these dirty cops?

"X-Xion . . ." she stammered, looking obviously like she felt out of place in a place like this. Clearly, she _wasn't _the type to get detention.

"What a pretty name . . ." the cop said with a wide smile. "What could an innocent-looking girl like you have done to get detention, of all things?"

Kairi placed her hands on her hips and jumped in to save Xion from the cop's obvious flirtatious attempts. "Well, let's go find a seat, Xi. Nice meeting you, Mr. Cop!"

Kairi immediately grabbed Xion's hand and, upon spotting me, headed to my side. She took the desk in front of me and Xion took the desk to the left of mine. Kairi turned around in her seat and grinned at me.

"What's up, Park? Haven't seen you in days. What the Hell have you been up to?" she asked animatedly in a low voice.

I glanced at the police officer, who was still watching Xion with genuine interest and a sleazeball look in his eyes. I didn't know why, but I was fixated on the fact that he was so taken by Xion. Then, I looked at Kairi knowingly.

"Right!" she said, obviously not getting the point of my look. "Rox, this is my new friend, Xion! She's from South Korea. I figured you two could get along."

Xion shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear and looked at Kairi and I through her lashes abashedly.

"We have met," she said in that cute halting English of hers with a small smile. "In Choir class, remember?"

"Oh, right, _duh_!" Kairi said, slapping her forehead with her palm. "Face-palm moment. I forgot. We redheads aren't so smart."

"Hah, 'sokay," I said with a shrug, giving Xion a lazy half-smile. "Looks like the cop has the hots for you, Xion. He won't stop staring."

"Ew, gosh, I _know_," Kairi hissed. "And he looks so creepy, ugh. Oh well, before you know it, we'll be out of here and she won't ever have to see him again."

The officer suddenly slammed his pen down on top of his desk.

"This is _detention_," he barked angrily, probably in response to hearing Kairi gush about how repulsive he was. "Next time I hear a voice spoken, you're going to regret it. Now shut the _fuck_ up and face the front, little girl."

I glared at him, but his attention was already back to Xion's downcast face. She had gotten out homework of some sort and was busy reading the words that were printed on the page. Kairi grumbled curse words to herself and turned around, opening her bag to get out homework of her own. I looked back down at my notebook with a slow shake of my head, and finally things returned to normal for a while.

About a half-hour later, I couldn't take it anymore. I _had _to talk to Xion, or at least get a look at her. She looked so flipping attractive today . . . She was wearing a pretty baby pink sundress with short puff sleeves and a pair of black thigh high socks. Her hair ran down to her hips in loose curls with her long bangs parted down the middle. Her eyes looked big and blue, framed by pretty false lashes of some sort, and her lips were stained a coral-red. She looked hot to put it simply, and I wanted to talk to her and look at that hot face, dammit!

"Hey," I hissed, stealing furtive glances to the front to ensure that the officer wasn't looking. Fortunately, he was absorbed in his cell phone for the moment.

"Hm?" she murmured, looking up from her homework in a daze, pencil poised over paper. She blinked and smiled at me. Much to my horror, I got a good look at not only her pretty face, but also at the giant, ugly shiner that had made itself visible underneath her eye. There were a few other small cuts and purplish-green bruises on her cheeks and forehead, and to be quite honest, she looked as if she'd been in a fight. I could tell that she'd tried to cover it up with make-up, but obviously, the make-up just wasn't doing its job.

I raised my eyebrows in shock. Xion? A fighter? This girl was just _full _of surprises.

"What the Hell happened to you?" I whispered with a smirk. "Get in a fight with Namine, or something?"

She blanched and went visibly pale, raising a trembling hand to her bruised eye. Her lips quivered as she gave out a small, breathy laugh.

"God, I'm so clumsy," she whispered back in Korean. "I tripped and fell, right down my stairway. So clumsy, seriously."

I gave her a weird look, not quite believing it, but not really knowing what other explanation she could possibly give. I barely knew the girl. Maybe she really _was _clumsy and fell down the stairs. Who knew? All I knew was that she was still drop-dead gorgeous, even all banged up like that. I tossed my head to move my bangs out of the way and turned to face her more.

"Well . . . You still look cute, so I guess you should be a little clumsy more often, hm?" I said, tilting my head to the side and looking from her lips to her eyes and back again. I tried not to laugh at the bright pink blush that spread across her face before she looked away from me.

Xion suddenly stood up, causing everyone to look at her.

"I must use the bathroom, sir," she announced to the police officer in a tiny voice, who merely nodded abruptly and watched her leave. He continued to watch the door as her footsteps pattered softly and quickly down the hall.

"Look at you, Mr. Flirtatious," Kairi murmured over her shoulder. "I had a feeling you'd be into little Xi."

"What can I say?" I murmured back. "I'm a guy who likes shiny things."

"Well played, Roxy, well played."

We both looked up at the sound of a chair scraping on the linoleum and were bemused. The young police officer had simply gotten up and left the classroom without a word to the rest of us. We could hear him walking down the hall.

"Dude, what the _fuck_ is up with that freak?" one guy spoke up, looking back at me. "He was staring at that Xion chick like he wanted to eat her!"

"Or fuck the shit out of her," another girl smirked, popping her gum in her mouth. "That girl may look innocent, but word on the streets is she's quite the little temptress."

"Really?" someone else said. "Do tell."

"Yes, Tifa, _do _tell," Kairi snarled, obviously angry that the brunette was talking about her friend like that. I can't say I was too happy either, but I didn't care either way. Xion was going to be mine by the end of the month, temptress or not.

"Well—" Tifa started, but the first guy interrupted her.

"Hold up a second!" he exclaimed. "Didn't Xion leave to go to the bathroom? Why would the cop leave right after?!"

Kairi immediately whirled around to look at me with wide eyes.

"No fucking way," she gasped. "Roxas, we have to go out there after them!"

"Relax, guys," Tifa scoffed. "He's a _police officer_. He wouldn't touch a minor. He'd be fired and arrested. He may be a creep, but I don't think he's an idiot." She leaned back in her seat and mussed up her long, straight brown hair. "She'll be fine."

Kairi beseeched me with her cerulean eyes, and I knew she was really worried. To be honest, I kind of was, too. If there was one thing I was good at, it was being the "protector" type, so I might as well utilize my skills, right?

"All right, all right," I groaned to my best girl friend. "I'll check it out. I'm sure it's probably okay, but for my cousin's girl, I'll do it."

Kairi batted her eyelashes up at me and clasped her hands by her heart. "Thaaaaank you, Roxy~!" she giggled with a big, grateful smile on her heart-shaped face.

I rolled my eyes for the millionth time that day and rose from my desk. Tifa gave me a long look and I ignored it. She was a regular to detention since Freshman year and had been crushing on me since last year. Just too bad she was the daughter of Dr. Strife and Nurse Strife. It would be like fucking my sister, so I knew I should be staying away from that one with a ten foot pole.

"Good luck, man," another student said as I made my way to the door.

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. I pushed up the sleeves of my long-sleeved black _Of Mice & Men _pullover and looked up and down the hallway. There was no sound, but I knew better than to think that meant that everything was fine. To the left was the stairway up, but to the right led to the downstairs bathrooms. I decided to head that way. I kept my mouth shut and footsteps light for fear of alerting the cop to my presence.

_ If _he was doing something morally corrupt, granted.

As I went, I glanced in the windows of each classroom door to see if there was anyone inside. It was dark due to this being the basement level, so it was hard to see but I tried anyway. I honestly didn't believe that the cop was stupid enough to touch a minor and a student, but it gave me peace of mind to at least look as I walked by. The hallway lights flickered a bit, but I feared nothing. I didn't fear much of anything anymore. Not since I had gotten sick and realized that there were scarier things in this life than the dark.

I came upon the bathrooms soon enough. The mens' was to the left, the womens' was to the right, and the lights were off in both. Odd. Wouldn't Xion need light to see if she was using the bathroom? Instantly, my senses heightened. Something felt off about this whole situation, and I was beginning to think that Kairi's fears about Xion's safety weren't misplaced.

I took a step into the girls' bathroom, debating whether or not to turn on the light and scare the cop if he was in there harming her or forcing her to do something bad. I took another step, feeling my anger rise at the thought of him harming a hair on her pretty little head. She was so frail and tiny—she looked almost emaciated. There was no way a small girl like her could fight a trained police officer off. It disgusted me just to imagine it.

I resolved to beat his ass if he was touching her, no matter the consequences.

I was reaching along the wall in the dark, searching for the light when I heard a crash and a scream coming from further down the hall. I sucked in my breath, turned, and skidded to a halt in the middle of the hall. I heard another shriek, followed by the sound of a desk screeching across the linoleum.

"_Aish_!" I cried, knowing that something bad was going down. I pushed my sleeves up again and rushed into the dark part of the hallway, to the classroom where I thought I'd heard the screams coming from. As I got closer, I could hear more clearly that it really was Xion.

"_Hajimasaeyo_!" she was pleading. "_Jaebal_ . . . !"

Just the sound of the distress in her tone and the thought that she was so terrified that she was speaking in Korean was enough to send my adrenaline into overdrive. I burst into the dark room and saw all that I needed to see. Her sitting atop a desk, struggling to push his hands away as he tried to touch her. It was dim, but it was enough.

Revolting.

"You sick _fuck_," I spat out angrily before I lashed out and caught him across the face in the most glorious punch I had ever given. The cop spun in a circle and crumpled to the floor, unconscious. I stared at Xion in concern and was appalled to see tears coursing down her cheeks, streaking through her makeup like rivers of sadness. I took a step toward her but she whimpered and scrambled off the desk. She quickly moved away from me, pulling the sleeve of her pink dress back up her shoulder. She lowered her eyes, visibly ashamed and scared.

"Xion . . ." I said softly, gently. I held my hand out to her. "Come with me . . . We have to go get help, before he wakes up."

She looked down at the police officer, then at my hand, and finally into my eyes. It took all my will not to take a step back from her. Even though it was mostly dark in the room, I was able to see such depths of despair and terror in her eyes that it was frightening. What the Hell had this girl been through in her life?

The police officer suddenly growled and started to get to his feet.

"Xion, now!" I shouted, forcibly grabbing her hand and pulling her along behind me as we ran back down the hall. Kairi was standing there with some of the other students, horrified at the sight of the cop stumbling after Xion and I down the hall.

"Everyone, let's get the Hell out of here!" one student yelled, running back into the class to get his stuff. Kairi took one look at Xion's tear-streaked face, turned to go back inside, and came out with all three of our backpacks by the time we'd come screeching to a halt outside the classroom. I took the bags from her and the entire platoon of detention students went racing up the stairs, back out into the school.

Once outside, panting in exhaustion and standing by my car, I dropped the bags and finally spoke.

"What . . . The _fuck_?!" I shouted. "Did that _seriously_ just happen?!"

Kairi put her hands on her hips, trying to catch her breath. "We oughta call the police and tell them—"

"_NO_!" Xion shrieked suddenly, quite fearfully.

Kairi and I stared at her in shock, taken aback at the desperation in her tone. She looked absolutely terrified.

"You can _not_ tell the police," she beseeched me. "My father . . . He would . . . You just can't call the police!"

"But _dongsaeng_, you just got attacked by a _cop_," I said softly, gesturing back toward the school. "Don't you think that deserves some attention?"

Xion jammed her hands backward through her impossibly long hair and firmly shook her head. "I am fine. I am not hurt. There is no reason to call police," she said so Kairi could understand her.

"Forget it, Xi!" Kairi yelled. "I'm your friend, and that bastard deserves to be punished!"

"_Please, Kairi_!" Xion begged, grabbing Kairi by the shoulders and looking at her with tears welling up in her eyes. "You have to understand. You _can not _call police. They will tell my father, and it will be worse for me. Just . . . Please understand. You must understand!"

Kairi sighed and gave me one last long, worried look, before she nodded.

"Fine," she breathed. "Okay, whatever you say."

"Thank you," Xion replied with relief in her voice before she turned to look up at me. "And thank you . . . Thank you for helping me. Without you, it could have been way worse."

I rubbed the back of my neck, actually feeling a little bit flustered. "Nah, 'snothin . . . I wasn't just gonna let you get hurt."

There was an awkward silence between the two of us for a long, drawn-out second. Kairi looked from one pair of eyes to the other before her eyebrows shot up.

"Ooookay then . . . This is getting weird," she said. "I'm gonna go home now, Sora's coming over. Xi, you want a ride?"

I turned to look down at Xion, and watched as she shook her head. Kairi shrugged, gave her one last hug, and then pranced off in the direction of her car. Xion sighed heavily and her delicate lips turned up in a small smile.

"I guess I'll see you this weekend?" she said.

Before I could stop myself, it just spilled out.

"Wanna hang out tonight instead?" I blurted out.

"To-Tonight?" She tucked her hair behind her ear and gazed up at me in surprise. She was blushing, a thing I'd noticed she did often, and I smiled absentmindedly because it was so cute.

"Uh . . ." I averted my gaze, nervously rubbing the back of my head again. "Yeah. You don't have to, but . . . Maybe we could work on the song?"

She bit on her bottom lip and I could see the indecisiveness written on her heart-shaped face. She really seemed to be struggling with it, and I wasn't sure if she was thinking of a nice way to reject me or not. I wasn't much accustomed to rejection, after all. I was Roxas Park. I wasn't known just for my tendency to get into and win fights. To say that girls found me handsome would be conceited, but actually quite true. But hey . . . I didn't really care what anybody thought about me, much less if they found me "conceited" or not.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Xion finally gave me a bright smile and nodded.

"Sure, I'll hang out."

"Yeah?" I said, grinning.

She nodded again. "Yeah."

"Great! Then . . . I guess, let's go to my car," I said, continuing to speak Korean. I pointed to where the car was at. We walked toward it, falling in step by each other. I couldn't help but sneak a sidelong glance at her, inwardly amused by the way she had to take two steps for every one step of mine, resulting in her half-skipping to keep up with me.

I pulled my car keys out of my pocket and hurried to get the doors unlocked so that she could get into the car. I didn't have to go pick up the twins, thankfully. My parents had been forced to ask Brittany to do it, since I had been _awarded_ detention.

I figured Xion and I could go to my house and practice the song. My whole family would be there, but maybe she wouldn't mind?

She jumped with fright as soon as the car turned on and the music blasted out of the speakers. The raucous screaming obviously wasn't her first choice in music. I laughed heartily and leaned forward to turn it down to an acceptable level.

"What, don't like _Cannibal Corpse_?" I chuckled, laughing harder as she shook her head furiously. "Well, Ms. Hicks, what _do _you like to listen to?"

She shrugged, seeming shy. "I listen to Korean music . . ." She trailed off, almost as if she were worried about something.

I leaned back in my seat and kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting in my lap. Man, was I tired. I hadn't expected to punch a police officer today, so that could be pretty tiring. Xion was ridiculously quiet, picking at a loose thread on the skirt of her sundress. Everything about her body language screamed discomfort and honestly, I wasn't surprised. After what she'd been through today, she probably didn't want to be stuck in a car with anyone of the male persuasion.

"Hey," I said, tearing my eyes off of the road for a second to look at her with a brow furrowed in concern. "How you holding up?"

The music floated out through the speakers around us, but she didn't have to talk loudly to be heard over its sound. She sighed heavily and shrugged again. She answered me, "I'm okay, I suppose."

"You suppose?" My eyebrows raised as I used one hand to make a turn at a red light. "And what does that mean?"

She turned her head to look out the window, one arm resting on the sill and one hand over her mouth. She shook her head, not speaking. I frowned. If there was one thing I understood about women, it was that the shy ones were usually quick to cry. Xion was shy, but she seemed strong. I didn't want to see her cry. I had made some mistakes in my life, but I was a compassionate guy when it came to girls. If she was sad, I knew just how to comfort her. As we pulled up to another red light, I cautiously reached over to grab her other hand, which was sitting in her lap and give it a squeeze.

"Hey, it's okay," I said softly. "You'll be okay."

"Yeah?" she said thickly. So she _was _about to cry.

"I promise," I told her. Of course, we both knew it was a promise I couldn't possibly keep, but the sentiment was what counted. She wiped away a stray tear that had fallen and smiled sadly at me.

"Thank you," she said, "but it won't okay. It won't ever be okay again."

The corners of my mouth turned down as we turned onto my street. I looked at her. She wasn't crying any longer, but the look on her face was just plain _sad_. It was like she had a million memories and no one to share them with. There was fear there, and definite pain. And something else . . . Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Was it anger? Hollowness? Self-hatred? I wanted to know.

"Morbid," was all I could think to say, as I didn't want to press into her personal matters. Besides, we were about to face the likes of my insane family. I hoped she was prepared to get questioned by my parents, glared at by my sister Brittany, and attacked with love from my twin sisters.

I parked the car in the garage, and Xion and I got out and went inside the house.

"_Oppa_!" I heard two cute, six-year-old voices from the kitchen. Eun Seo and Eun Ju came racing around the corner, their hair in matching pigtail buns and both wearing the same pink tutu dresses.

"Awwwww, it's my girls!" I cried happily, falling to my knees with open arms just as they came cascading into my embrace. I hugged them tightly and picked them both up easily, as if they weighed no more than pillows. They squealed and giggled, begging me to put them down while still finding the time to plant kisses on each of my cheeks.

"_Oppa_, who is that girl?" Eun Ju asked me in Korean, peeking around my head at Xion, who was standing by the door with her hands behind her back and her eyes downcast.

I turned around and set the twins down.

"Eun Ju, Eun Seo, meet Xion!" I said. "She's my Choir partner; she's here to sing for us! It's okay to speak Korean around her because she's from Korea, too."

"You're a singer?!" Eun Seo cried excitedly, rushing up to Xion and tugging on the hem of her dress.

Xion giggled and nodded. "_N-Ne_ . . ." she stuttered, gasping in surprise as Eun Seo grabbed her hand and demanded she go with her to the piano so that they could make music together. Xion's blue eyes met with mine once more before they had vanished into the living room.

"_Oppa, _is she your girlfriend?" Eun Ju asked me with an impish smile.

I grinned back. "Not yet," I said evilly before slapping her lightly on the rump and telling her to go get our mother so she could meet Xion. Then, I went into the living room. Eun Seo was showing Xion how to open the heavy lid on the piano keys, since she was only six and "wasn't allowed to open the piano." I stood there with my arms crossed over my chest, watching with a slightly amused smile as Xion conversed with my little sister. Both of them were adorable.

"Well, hello!" my mother said loudly and cheerfully before the girls could sit down at the piano bench. We all turned to wave to her. She looked at me and then at Xion, her smile sort-of strained.

"_Annyeong hasaeyo,_" Xion said, bowing respectfully to my mother.

"_Oma_, this is Xion," I said. "She's my Choir partner."

She looked relieved and her smile became genuine. She introduced herself to Xion, offered her whatever she wanted from the kitchen, and then told Eun Seo to go play with Eun Ju so that Xion and I could work on our homework.

My mother didn't really approve of my squandering ways when it came to girls. She was very aware of my partying and sleeping around, and she really didn't approve of it. But my parents had both come to a place where they valued me as their son too much to be constantly controlling and disciplining me when I was as sick as I was. They just wanted the best for me, but if there was one rule they had, it was that I had to keep the "bad" part of me outside of their house. Hence the reason why my mother's smile had seemed false—she had probably, at first, assumed that Xion was someone I'd brought home for one night, and no more.

"Will you be staying for dinner, Xion?" my mother asked sweetly.

Xion opened her mouth to answer, but I interjected on her behalf.

"_Oma_, can't you leave us alone?" I asked. "We have to work on the song. We'll let you know if she's staying for dinner."

"Oh . . . Okay . . . Well, let me know. Have fun!"

She turned and went to go back up the stairs. I smiled at Xion.

"_Mianhae_," I laughed. "My family is a little . . . In your face."

She waved a dismissive hand. "Doesn't bother me . . . Should we start? And then maybe after, you can teach me some English, and I can help you with your homework?"

"Yeah, totally," I agreed, gesturing to the piano bench. She took a seat, and I was quick to follow. I tried not to look at her as I caught a whiff of her perfume. She smelled of roses and Spring and the promise of a new tomorrow. I could almost feel her aura coming off of her in waves, and every hair on the side of my body that was nearest to her stood up as if drawing me closer. I unconsciously scooted just a little bit nearer to her, lifting up the lid of the piano.

I ran my fingertips along the keys lightly, instantly falling into the mode I fell into when it came to the piano. Despite the many mistakes I had made, one thing that had remained stagnant was my passion for music and the piano. I didn't tell very many people because it was so unlike a guy like me to play the piano and up until this school year, I had been extremely popular. Everything I had done had been watched and judged. It was only after quitting the gang, breaking up with Namine, and making new friends (well . . . Acquaintances . . .) to hang out with at school, that I was really able to delve deeply into my piano. Summer had been a blur of piano, babysitting the twins, hanging out with Sora and Kairi, partying, girls, sex, and my desperate attempts to stop using drugs and keep myself out of trouble with the law. I hoped that by focusing on piano, I could slowly cut out everything that held me back from my full potential in life, and maybe, just maybe, I could make my parents and sisters proud of me.

"So," I began, "the song is pretty complicated. It's got a lot of high notes and I was kind-of hoping for a lot of melodies. Can you do that? I've got the lyrics that Mrs. Waldemeier wrote up in my room, and I think I can have my mom make copies for it in my dad's office . . . Do you mind waiting here just a second?"

I was just about to get up when I saw Brittany walking by on her way to the kitchen, her cell phone up to her ear as she prattled on.

"Hey, Jyung Su~" I sang, already trying to persuade her with my voice. She stopped in the hall and turned to give me a nasty look, irritated that I had interrupted her phone call.

"Yeah, hang on," she said to the person she was talking to. "He's got some girl over, and wants to talk to me. I don't know, just some chick. I don't _know_, I don't ask him that kinda stuff. It's not like you guys are together . . ." She trailed off, shooting me a furtive glance, and then turning away for a second. "I gotta go, though, dude."

"Wait," I asked suspiciously. "Who are you talking to?"

"Nobody," she said sweetly, pressing the end button on her phone and hiding it behind her back quickly. "Now, what did you need, _oppa_?"

Okay, now I _knew _something was up. Brittany never used a "sweet" tone with me unless she was doing something that she knew would piss me off. I narrowed my eyes and scrutinized her for drawn-out moment, until she could bear the pressure no longer. She nodded to Xion.

"Who's your friend?" she asked, still smiling that awfully guilty smile.

I shot her one last apprehensive glance before I conceded defeat (she was probably talking to my crazy ex, Namine, anyway. Namine would do anything to keep me around and keep an eye on me, even if that meant staying friends with my sixteen-year-old sister) and introduced Xion to Brittany, who looked at the poor girl as if she were on display and getting graded on her appearance.

"This is my Choir partner, Xion," I said. "It's okay to speak Korean, too."

"Nice to meet you, Xion," Brittney said, thrusting her hand out for Xion to shake it. "I've heard a lot about you."

There was an awkward silence as Xion looked at me, obviously expecting that it was me who had been telling my sister about her. I looked at Brittany, but she looked down at her feet with the most mortifiedexpression on her face. I knew exactly what Brittney had meant by that statement.

"Okay, what the fuck, Jyung Su?" I said angrily. "Have you been talking to Namine? What is she saying about Xion?"

"Nothinggggggg, _oppa_," she whined at me—she only whined to me when she wanted something, like money or a ride somewhere, or when she felt bad about something she had done that had to do with me. She obviously wasn't asking for a ride, so it had to be the latter.

"Jyung Su, I'm not an idiot. You were just on the phone with her, weren't you?" I scowled and slammed my fist down on the piano keys, causing both girls to jump in fright at the loud sound.

"_Oppa . . ._" Brittany whimpered.

"I'm getting sick and fucking tired of Namine getting in my _fucking_ business," I growled at my sister. "And with you being her friend and running back to her with information about me like her little mole, it's making it really hard for me to focus on having my own _life_, okay? So knock it off, got it?"

Tears filled her eyes and she nodded quickly. "_Mianhae, oppa . . . Mianhae . . ."_

I frowned. I was irritated at her for talking about me with Namine, but I loved my sister, and I didn't want to see her cry. I slowly stood up and grabbed her into a one-armed hug.

"It's okay," I sighed. "Just . . . Watch it, all right?"

She nodded, sniffling into my shirt. I glanced down at Xion, who looked to be extremely interested in the piano keys, and I felt a little remorseful. I hadn't wanted her to see me get angry like that, and especially not at my own sister. She must have felt so ill-at-ease now.

I kissed Brittany on the forehead with affection, and then ruffled her hair so that she panicked and shot me a glare.

"So _anywayyyy_," I said. "I brought you in here because I need you to go into my room and get the lyrics for my song, and then give them to _oma_ so that she can make a copy of them in _appa_'s office."

She nodded. "_Un_, _oppa_. Where are they at?" She started to leave the room, looking at me over her shoulder as she waited for my answer.

"They're on my desk, next to my laptop."

"_Un_," she nodded, and dashed off toward the stairs.

I sank back down onto the piano bench and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"I am _so _sorry," I said sincerely to Xion. "I didn't mean to freak you out, or anything. I don't always yell and get pissed like that, I swear . . ."

Xion looked up from the piano keys and smiled at me encouragingly. "It is okay . . . I have heard worse."

I looked at her sharply, arching one eyebrow in question. She wasn't looking at me though, and instead was looking back down at the keys again, lost in her own thoughts. I frowned, wondering about her . . . So far, this was the second time she'd said something that seemed to have a hidden double meaning. Not to mention, she'd _freaked_ the fuck out when Kairi had insisted on calling the police earlier. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have asked her to come over today, right after the cop incident. Except there was always the possibility that she had said yes because she wanted the distraction? Who knew? This girl was a mystery, which is part of the reason why I was so attracted to her.

Instead of replying to her, I placed my fingers upon the piano keys, closed my eyes, and breathed in the music. I began to play, allowing the song to flow out through my body in such a way as to express my emotions aptly. My hands flew across the keys, high and low notes mixing effortlessly to create a harmony that hadn't been heard before. I let my thoughts and emotions mingle, and I composed a song of secrets and wonder. It was at these times that I expressed myself. I didn't care what anybody thought of me. I didn't care about my clothes, or making sure my hair was at just the right level of bedheadedness. I didn't care about the past, present, or future. I didn't care about the pain I had been going through with my illness, and I certainly didn't care about my worries with the gang popping up in mine and Sora's lives again. I cared about nothing.

There was nothing and no one; only me and the music.

All-of-a-sudden, Xion began to sing in Korean. I felt her beautiful voice washing over me the same way that her scent had done when I'd first sat down beside her. Behind my closed eyelids, I saw beauty in its purest form. There was magic in her voice, weaved within the notes like the way the sun's rays interlace with the atmosphere of our grandiose Earth. I saw many things in her song—all the things I had hoped to express to her when I had started playing just moments ago. I realized that this song was her way of answering all of my silent questions. By intertwining her own emotions with the song, I was able to come to an understanding with her.

As the last note was played and the last words floated out of her mouth like audible silver, our eyes met and our musical spirits connected, even if only for a moment. And we understood.

We _understood_.

"Holy _cow_!" came Brittany's voice from the door. I heard papers whooshing as they fell out of her hands and onto the floor, and then I heard clapping coming from my mother, whose mouth was hanging open in shock and wonderment.

"Wooooow! You have such a pretty voice, Ms. Xion!" Eun Seo came skipping over and stood staring up at Xion as if she were her idol.

I smiled as Eun Ju poked her head out from behind my mother's legs shyly. "_Oppa,_ is she here to make a band with you? Are you guys gonna be famous like One Direction?"

Brittany and I burst out laughing, and I turned around on the bench to hold my arms out to Eun Ju. She ran over and I pulled her up onto my lap.

"What would you say if I said yes, Eun Ju?" I asked her conspiratorially. "Would you be my number one fan?"

"Yes!" the six-year-old said, pouting. "I would be the biggest number one fan _ever_, and I would know all your songs in my head!"

Everyone laughed, and even Xion gave a little giggle.

"Oh yeah?" Eun Seo spoke up, glaring at her twin sister. "Well _I'm _gonna be Ms. Xion's biggest number one fan ever! I'm going to sing with her on the stage because I'm the best biggest number one fan ever _ever_!"

"Nuh-uh!" Eun Ju hollered back. "Not if I be the bestest best _best _biggest number one fan ever ever _ever_ ever!"

Eun Seo lunged across the room, and the two girls went at it. My mother and Brittney had to pull them apart. They looked miffed, but I was laughing because in my eyes, the twins were freaking adorable and could do no wrong.

"Quit laughing!" my mother snapped at me, picking Eun Ju up and holding her against her hip. "You're such a bad influence, _aigoo_."

"_Oma_!" I groaned. "Leave me _alone_."

"_Annyeo_!" she wailed back. "You make them fight with each other; everything is a competition for them."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, waving a dismissive hand to her and then turning my attention to Brittany, who was holding hands with Eun Seo. I held my hand out for the lyrics, which she had to run and grab off of the carpet. Eun Seo brought them to me, and then gave Xion a shy smile.

My mother slapped her lightly on the rump. "Girls, apologize to our guest. You've probably scared the living daylights out of her," she told the twins, giving Xion a kind smile.

"We're sorry, Ms. Xion," they said simultaneously with big, cute frowns on their faces and fat tears rolling down their chubby cheeks. I couldn't help but grin, which earned me a death glare from my mother. I gave Eun Seo a kiss on the head.

"Thank you for bringing me my lyrics, Eun Seo," I said gratefully to her, stroking her under the chin lovingly and giving her a smile. "You're a _big _help!"

Eun Seo smiled brightly, and her tears disappeared. "Really, _oppa_?"

"Of course!" I gushed. "Without you, Ms. Xion and I wouldn't be able to get our schoolwork done! You've saved the whole Choir concert!"

She smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. "_Ne_, I did. It was all me. I deserve a present."

"A present?" I gasped, placing a hand to my heart as if bewildered. "A present for Eun Seo?"

"I want a present, too!" Eun Ju whined, and my mother set her down. She rushed to stand next to Eun Seo, and the both of them stared up at me expectantly.

My mother smiled at us, putting her hands on her hips, love in her eyes. She may have nagged at me constantly, but I knew she knew I was a good brother to my little sisters. She knew how much I adored them.

I tapped my chin. "What can I possibly get the two biggest, bestest number one fans ever? Nothing would be good enough for girls like you!"

The girls jumped up and down excitedly, screaming out different options for me to get them, and I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, all right. After me and Xion finish our work, I'll take you guys to Toys-R-Us, and get you a present," I said, and they flipped out, screaming in joy and dancing around and around in circles.

And then it began.

The song from Hell.

"_Oppa, oppa, oppa! Oppa has a big butt!" _They linked arms and twirled around each other. "_Oppa, oppa, oppa! Oppa has a big butt!"_

"Oh, good Lord," I moaned, hanging my head in my hands. They continued to sing, and then I heard what I had yet to hear.

Xion was laughing. And I mean _genuinely_ laughing, tears and everything. She must have found those twins irresistible. Even my mother and my sister were laughing. They _knew _I hated this song. I threw my hands up into the air in defeat.

"Okay, okay, that's enough already," I said, grinning and pleased at the fact that Xion was actually laughing. At least she was having a good time . . .

"_Ne_, let's leave your big-butt _oppa_ to do his work," my mother chuckled, taking the twins' hands and leading them out, reminding them that they could only go to Toys-R-Us with me if they worked together to clean their messy bedroom. Brittany stood there for a second more, told Xion she had a really pretty voice again, and then walked off as well.

Xion and I were alone.

I exhaled greatly and turned to her, shaking my head.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized again. "My family . . . They're just really nosy. They let me do what I want, they're just . . .Yeah, crazy."

She giggled and wiped a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye, so as not to ruin her eye make-up. "I like them," she said softly. "They are wonderful."

"Thanks," I said, giving her a half of a smile. "So . . . That song we just did . . . Did you make up those words on the spot?"

She nodded, a pretty pink blush staining her cheeks out of embarrassment.

I grinned, impressed. "What were you feeling while you sang it?"

It was her turn to grin. "Secret," was all she said.

I nudged her gently, and we both smiled sheepishly at each other. Our song had been kind-of . . . Intimate. I almost felt as if we'd shared a kiss, but it was so much deeper than that. We had seriously understood each other and no words had even been spoken. She hadn't told me anything of her past life and I hadn't told her anything about mine, but in that final moment, we had both accepted each other wholeheartedly. It was as if we had both signed an unspoken agreement: _I won't judge you if you won't judge me._

Question was, what would she think if I confessed to her all of _my _sins?

x-x-x

**A/N: Whooop! Music is so wonderful. See you next chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**UPDATE: July 14****th****, 2014! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I know I said daily updates but I've been really busy and stuff. Anyway, I will get on with it!**

**NOTE: In the previous chapter's author note, I misspelled **_**"mianhae.**_**" I accidentally added and extra letter "a." Sorry! Also, **_**yeoboseyo **_**means Hello when answering the phone.**

**MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING. This chapter contains abuse/ minor sexual abuse.**

**Chapter Four – Unanswered Cries, Part Two**

_Xion's POV_

Roxas and I practiced for almost two hours that evening. Besides my connection with my late mother, I couldn't remember the last time I had ever felt so connected to another human being. We hardly spoke besides to ask questions about the song: questions like me asking him to play it on a lower scale so my voice could be more easily able to hit a higher note, or him asking me to use a falsetto or more emotion on a certain part so the true meaning of the song could be heard through the words. It wasn't hard work. It was fun because it was something we both had passion for, but it was still homework and eventually, we just wanted to stop.

"I think that the more we work on it, the more it's going to adapt and become even better," Roxas said to me, his eyes scanning the lyrics. He had crossed things out, made marks, and written notes all over the pages as reminders for him to rearrange certain parts for me. I had done the same to my page, and I knew that when I got home I was going to have to practice also.

_When I got home . . ._

My eyes opened wide and I dived for my messenger bag, which was sitting on the floor beside the leg of the piano bench. I dug around for my iPhone frantically, and when I found it, checked the screen for any missed calls. Nothing; just a text from Kairi asking what I was doing, and how I was holding up.

I frowned and my heart sank. I had been so engrossed in our work that I had almost forgotten about what had happened at the school today. Almost. Now that her text had reminded me of it, I felt nauseous. I still couldn't quite believe that it had happened. Police officers didn't do those kinds of things to quiet, innocent teenage girls. Police officers were supposed to _protect_ those girls from the bad men who _did _do those kinds of things.

But then again, so were fathers.

After my mother's death, I had expected to be able to stay in Korea and to start living with my actual father. He was remarried to my stepmother and my older sister Yuffie's life was pretty entwined with his. I would be able to stay with all my friends, having the support of my real family by my side while we grieved and healed. After the funeral, I had already started packing to move in with my father because I had literally just assumed that it would happen. I didn't think he would call me, or that I even _needed _to call him—I thought it was common knowledge throughout the family that I would be living with my father, even though my stepfather legally had custody of me.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

My stepfather had quietly entered my room behind me with a glass of wine in one hand and an envelope in the other. This was before everything about him had changed, so I wasn't scared to see him in my bedroom. I wasn't worried about him drinking wine in the middle of the afternoon, either. I even smiled at him and gave him a gentle hug. After all, he had been a father to me for years; a provider for me and my mom. There was trust in that.

He had then handed me the envelope with a very sad, very apologetic look on his face, saying, "Xion-_chan_ . . . _Mianhae . . ."_

I had looked at him, then, and my face had gone pale with worry. What did this envelope contain . . . ? The last time he had looked at me like that and said those words to me were when he had delivered the news of my mother's passing to me. I was petrified.

I tore it open with shaking hands and unfolded a typed out letter straight "_from the desk of Mr. Kyung San Jo_." My eyes had pored over it, reading it again and again until tears blurred my vision.

My father did not want me. He had written in a very blunt, uncaring way that I would not be living with him. I would be moving to America with my stepfather where there was better education for me. He was a busy man and did not have time to raise another child, what with the children he had fathered with his new wife. He did not have room at his estate to board me, for he had one remaining room that the children and maids had not taken and the new nanny would be taking it.

And that was it. Not an "I love you," "I'm sorry," or even a "Good bye." Nothing. That was it and the meaning was clear. I was completely shocked and confused. We had always had good relationship before my mother's death. I visited regularly and had a good rapport with his wife, my stepsisters, and my brothers. What had I done wrong? Why didn't he want me anymore?

It was at that moment that my stepfather had drawn me into his embrace and I had dissolved into tears in his arms, thinking that he was my only family now.

Little did I know what our father-daughter relationship was to become.

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Roxas calling my name, seeing him waving his hand in front of my face. I blinked owlishly and stared at him.

"What . . .?" I said. "Oh . . ."

"Are you okay?" he chuckled. "I lost you for a second there. What was so important on your phone?"

"N-Nothing," I stammered, feeling as if he had seen what I was reminiscing about even though I knew there was no possible way. "Just wondering if my father had called . . ."

We looked at each other then and I smiled. The song that we had made together on the spot a few hours ago . . . I longed to feel that again. I don't even know how I thought of the words, but they had just poured out of me. My heart had heard his silent questions and it had answered them. I had sung about my pain and my grief, my feelings of worthlessness and loneliness, while making it sound as though it was the song of another girl. I didn't want anybody to know what I was going through—it was my burden to bear—but in these secret moments with Roxas, perhaps I could let just a little bit of my true sadness shine through in the music. We had looked at each other and understood that there would be no judgment between us. Finally, there would be someone who accepted me for me and didn't define me by my past.

How long would this dream last?

"So . . . What do you say we go get the twins their gifts?" he asked.

I looked down at my phone to check the time. It was nearly seven-thirty PM. My stepfather would be getting home at eight. He would probably be angry with me for not being home when he got there and he would most likely already be slightly drunk. I knew it was the _smart _thing to do to go home, but I didn't _want_ to go home. I wanted to be with Roxas, his loving mother, his cute twin sisters, and making this beautiful music. I'd rather postpone my return and face the punishment tenfold when I got home, than leave this state of acceptance I was in just to face my demons.

"Yes," I said resolutely. "I would like to do that."

x-x-x

Why do we humans make the choices that we do? Do we make bad choices because society says some things are off-limits? Does curiosity have a tighter hold on us than we think it does, and does it control us on puppet strings from afar? Perhaps we make the bad choices in the hopes that they will lead us on a path to good choices and that everything will be all right in the end. We find ourselves asking, "Why do bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people?" It could be that things go the way they do _because_ we make bad choices with optimism in our hearts, rather than pessimism.

Why did I choose to take the worse punishment, and stay out most of the night with Roxas? Did I do it because I thought the bad choice would lead to a good choice? Or did I do it selfishly because I was tired of bad things happening to good people? I had a good time with him and his siblings, that much was true, but how worth it was it in the end? Was it worth taking that extra hour of happiness, only to return home to a Hellish nightmare? Maybe it was, and maybe it wasn't. There was no way to know now, and no point in dwelling. All I knew was that for just a moment, I was _happy._

And that's all that mattered.

"So, I was going to ask you . . ." Roxas said quietly in the car that night as we pulled up to my mansion's gate. He had turned down his music just for me and the twins earlier, even after we had dropped them off at his home for bed after getting them each a _Fur Real Pets_ dog at Toys-R-Us. He had tried to get me to go for a late dinner at _Denny's_, but I had no desire for food at _all. _If there was one thing I had to look forward to, it was seeing the number on that scale drop tomorrow. Our conversation had been light, but I think we were both content with it being that way. I think we both had to put on façades when we left the house, talking and laughing and smiling for everyone else when we truly didn't want to. Something about our connection during our song had made it easier for us to be silent in each other's presence.

I held up one finger to signal for him to wait for just one second while I got out of the car to type in the gate security code. Each button press seemed to resonate through my body louder than normal, and the dread that was growing in the pit of my stomach was making it hard for me to think straight. All I could think about was what was going to happen to me when I got home. I had never ever broken curfew like this before. I usually got beaten just for blinking in my stepfather's presence. What would he do to me for something like this?

Still, I didn't regret making the decision I had made and maybe, just maybe, the memory of the fun I had today would be enough to hold onto and get me through whatever horrors awaited me inside.

Roxas's car made its way along the long dirt road that led to my driveway. My stepfather had a lot of land, so it took a while to drive up to the door and even longer to walk to it.

Roxas said, "Anyway, I was thinking . . . Would you mind hanging out tomorrow? I . . ."

I looked at him, waiting for him to finish.

"I'm not really doing anything tomorrow and I mean . . . Maybe I could come over?"

I gulped. It would be a Saturday . . . My stepfather was home on the weekends. I wasn't entirely sure he would let me have a boy over, and especially not after breaking curfew.

"Um . . . My father," I stated meekly.

"Oh, yeah. Forgot. He's pretty strict, isn't he?" His headlights shone on the marble pillars of the front of the house and he nodded appreciatively. "Nice house, though."

"Thank you," I said quietly, looking at my lap.

"Why so quiet?" he asked. "We had fun today."

"Yes, of course! I had a lot of fun!" I said, offering him an appreciative smile. "It's just . . ."

"What?" he said quietly. The car lights turned off as he shut off the engine. As we were plunged in darkness, I realized that I really didn't want him to leave. I felt the tears of fear welling up in my eyes, and I was thankful for the night's cover.

"Do you ever . . . Do you ever think about life, and wonder why certain people die sooner than you want them to?" I asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper. I knew I was being depressing and cryptic, but I didn't want to go inside. I wanted to grab Roxas's hand and run off into the night with him, never to return. We could make music together for the rest of our lives.

I would never be alone again.

"Xion . . . Are you crying?" He asked in Korean, his concern seeming so genuine that I almost threw myself into his arms. I just wanted to be held. I didn't _want _to go inside and face my stepfather. I didn't want go inside and get touched and fondled all night. I didn't want to be hit and kicked. I didn't want to be forced to do_ anything_. I just wanted to stay here in this car with Roxas.

Finally, Roxas scratched the back of his head and suggested, "Why don't I come in and sleep over? I mean, not to _do _anything, of course. You just look like you could use some company tonight, after what happened. What I mean is . . . Well, you look like you could use a friend and I want to be your friend."

Bless his heart for offering. Bless his heart. But there was no way in Hell he could sleep over. Not when my stepfather visited my bed every night.

"No, thank you," was all I could manage to say through my tears and terror.

"Hm," he said. "Why don't I call you when I get home? I'll stay on the phone with you until you fall asleep."

I wiped my eyes and chanced a glance his way before I lowered my eyes to my lap. That wouldn't work because if my stepfather came to my bed tonight after beating me, he probably wouldn't be too keen on me taking a phone call. I was so grateful to Roxas for the sentiment in his suggestions for comfort from him, but he just didn't understand. The more suggestions he gave that I saw wouldn't work, the more angry I got at myself for being so worthless that I brought these horrible things onto myself. It was all my fault that my stepfather abused me. All my fault that my mother had died. All my fault that I was alone.

Roxas reached over and took my hand. Then, he used his other hand to quickly catch my chin and keep me from looking away.

"It's not your fault, what happened today in detention, all right?" he said softly. "That man was disgusting. He broke his oath as a police officer to protect the citizens of this city and if I ever see him again, I'll rip his head off for you."

I laughed a little bit in spite of my self. Roxas wiped away my tears with his thumbs.

"There's a smile," he said fondly. "Don't cry, okay? It doesn't look good on you."

I giggled this time and put my hand on the car door. I knew Roxas really was trying to help me, but he just had no idea how awful it was going to be when I went inside. He had no idea.

"I don't care what you say. I'm calling you tonight and then I'm coming over tomorrow. I'll pick you up and we can go hang out with Kairi and my cousin, Sora. We'll go see a movie or go to the park, or _something. _Whatever makes you feel better, okay?" he said, leaning back while putting one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his keys.

"Okay," I whimpered. "G-Good night . . ."

"Yeah," he said, smirking a little. "I'll call you." He turned on the engine so I got out of the car. I waved a little bit and shut the door. I saw him wave back before he backed up, turned around, and zoomed off down the driveway.

I closed my eyes, counted to ten, and went inside the house.

x-x-x

It happened in my bedroom. I had thought he might actually have gone to bed, so I tip-toed up the stairs to my room and didn't bother turning on the light after closing the bedroom door behind me. I had just set my messenger bag on the floor by my bed when I found myself face first on the mattress, a hand pushing my nose and mouth into the comforters so that I had to struggle for breath. Terrified, I shrieked and struggled, but I felt my stepfather's body press against mine from behind.

"I don't need to say anything to you," he hissed into my ear, his rancid alcohol breath filling my nostrils. He grabbed my hair in a painful, tangled grip, yanking my head back so far that I choked on the air I was breathing. "You _know _what you did wrong."

I screamed as he rolled away from me and threw me to the carpet. I tried to crawl backward away from him, but it was no use. He was so filled with ire that the rage had blinded him. I don't even think he saw me as his stepdaughter at that moment—all he saw before him was a waste of space and a blemish in his perfect life.

I heard him taking off the belt and I barely had time to throw my arms up defensivelybefore he rained blows upon my torso with the metal buckle. Each and every strike felt as if it were cleaving flesh from bone, causing me to cry out in pain. The metal struck my face, my ribs, my arms, my hips, and my thighs in quick succession before I found the strength to roll over. He hit me three more times on the back, causing me to collapse as the pain washed over my body in waves. My arms began to tremble so violently that they convulsed, and I collapsed against the carpet.

A split second after throwing his belt aside, he was kicking me in the side, knocking the wind out of me and causing my stomach to feel as if it were being ripped in half. He was still wearing his shoes and business suit from his workday.

"_Mianhae . . ." _I sobbed weakly, hardly able to breathe enough to speak. "_Appa, _stop! I'll do better, I promise! I promise!"

"Shut up!" he roared, my pleas only making him angrier.

I did everything I possibly could: I kicked, I screamed, I cried, I pounded my fists against his chest, but it was to no avail. He had every intention of getting me naked and of shoving his fingers into my dry passage, both of which he did. I tried to scoot away from the sharp, agonizing pain that ripped upward through my body, but he wrapped his other hand around my throat and pinned me down. Finding my airway completely constricted, I stopped trying to use my hands to push his fingers out of me and instead used them to claw at the hand he was using to choke me.

Was this it for me? He was either going to rape me or kill me, that I knew for sure, so which one was it gonna be? I had no idea what to think. Every fiber in my body was on an adrenaline rush, but it wasn't enough to give me strength. I hadn't eaten in days. My body was weak and his body was _much _stronger than mine. Was he going to take from me what he had desired for months now?

I remembered when he was a father to me. All the times we had laughed as a family before my mother's death. All the times he had comforted me when I was sad. All the times he had hugged me and told me he loved me as if I were his own daughter. There had never been anything to suggest that he would change so radically into this monster that was looking at me with an animalistic gleam in his eyes.

When had everything gone so wrong?

Suddenly, my bedroom door burst open and Su Jin was standing in the doorway with the most horrified expression I had ever seen on her delicate Korean features. Her hair was coming out of its bun, most likely because she must have run full speed from her bedroom.

"_Enough_!" she roared, falling to her knees beside us and shoving my stepfather off of me. She balled her hands into fists and hit him over and over again in the head until he drunkenly stumbled to his feet and staggered to the door, grabbing his belt along the way.

"This is your wife's _child_!" Su Jin cried hoarsely, angrily. She was gesturing to me, weeping unashamedly on the floor. "How could you do this to her _child_?! To your own _daughter_?!"

"That _girl_ . . ." He pointed at me, his hand shaking as angry tears filled his eyes and he clenched his teeth with hatred. "That _girl _is _not _my daughter!"

Su Jin threw her arms around me and shot him a glare. "I won't stand by and let you do this to her any longer."

"You don't have a choice!" my stepfather snapped back in Korean. "Interfere again, and you'll no longer have a _job_."

We both watched as he stalked off, and then Su Jin was all business, dragging me to my feet and helping me stumble to the bathroom. Every part of my body was on fire and I could feel something trickling down my inner thighs. When we got into the bathroom and Su Jin had turned on the light, I was sickened to see that it was blood. I looked at my naked body in the mirror, seeing the bruises already forming, my split lip and cut face. It was horrid.

Su Jin turned on the shower with more force than was necessary, testing the water with her hands. I was in awe of her resoluteness. She had been with our family for years, even before my mother and father had initially divorced, so she was like a second mother to me. She had never before stepped in on one these nightly visits, nor on any of the beatings. It was no secret around the house with the maids that my stepfather abused and molested me. Nobody ever said anything though because they were so scared of him. So why had she come forward to help me now? What had changed and made her take a stand? Would she continue to protect me?

She turned and locked eyes with me. Behind the toughness, I saw sadness in her eyes. We stared at each other for a long moment before I started to cry again, hugging my frail body.

"I miss her so much," I wept. "_Oma_ . . ."

Su Jin hugged me fiercely and tightly. "I miss her, too . . . I miss her, too . . ."

A few moments later, she pulled away and wiped my tears, just as my mother would have done. She didn't mention anything about what she had said to my stepfather or what he had said about me not being his daughter, and we didn't discuss the fact that this had been going on for so long. She didn't even ask me if he had taken my virginity. We just didn't talk about it, and it was for the best. I didn't _want_ to talk about it and even though she was one of the closest people to me, I was mortified at the fact that she had walked in and seen me like that, begging and groveling and vulnerable.

"I'll be sleeping in the guest bedroom next to yours, so if you need anything, just call my name. Take a shower, and get some rest," Su Jin said quietly. "And please . . . Try not to break curfew next time. I can't risk losing my job, because then I won't be able to protect you, all right?"

Sniffling, I nodded numbly.

She started to walk away, but I caught her hand.

"What if he comes back?" I asked, obviously terrified.

"He won't," she said firmly, that resolute glint back in her eyes again. "I promise. Now, I love you; I always have.Good night."

"Night," I whispered, watching as she closed the door behind her.

After my shower, I climbed naked into my bed, feeling safe with Su Jin next door. I had cut my arm again, even though I was hurt in so many other places from my stepfather's beating with the belt buckle. Consequently, I felt even worse than I had before. Everything hurt and I wanted nothing more than be free of this eternal torment. I sunk into my pillows and grabbed my phone, cradling it to me as I waited for Roxas's call. Perhaps hearing his voice would be enough to whisk me away to that world I so longed for with him—that world of music and happiness and acceptance.

As if on cue, my phone began to vibrate. I answered it.

"_Yeoboseyo_?" I greeted.

"Hey," his voice said, sounding a bit muted. "What's up?"

"Nothing," I whispered, my voice wavering as I struggled not to cry. He had no idea what I had just been through, nor what I had just done to myself. It was a wonder he hadn't noticed the scars on my arms with the dress I had been wearing today. With these new cuts, I was going to have to start wearing long sleeves. He would be repulsed by me if he saw them, or any of the bruises I now had on my body. There wasn't much I could do about the bruising on my face, though. I would think of a story, of course.

"You sure?" he asked suspiciously. "Doesn't sound like nothing . . ." I heard him yawn as he spoke.

I squeezed my eyes shut; my throat hurt from trying so desperately to hold back the tears. I felt so weak. I had cried in front of him twice now, so I didn't want to downright start sobbing.

As far as Roxas knew, all I was upset about was the encounter with the police officer (which now paled in comparison to what my stepfather had just done to me). Honestly, if I kept being so upset about it, he might stop caring. I didn't want him to stop caring. I wanted _someone_ to care about me. I wanted him to find me beautiful, but what if there was no beauty in weakness? Would he still want to keep talking to me if he found weakness in me?

"_Dongsaeng_ . . . _Talk _to me," he murmured with heartfelt sincerity and concern in his voice.

That was it. That was all it took. I started to cry so hard that it shook my whole body. I didn't even say anything—I just continued to cry. There was nothing _to _say, anyway. No words could describe what I was feeling and what I had experienced these past four months. No words could describe the true depths of my despair. I didn't want to beg and plead anymore. I didn't want to have to ask, _"Why me?"_

Roxas sat there and listened to me cry for a long time. He was very patient, which I was grateful for. I didn't really know what I was looking for in our conversation that night, but I was happy to cry and have someone sit there and _care_. It wasn't just me crying into my pillow at night, alone with my pain. There was actually someone _there_ on the other line. I wasn't alone for once.

When my sobs finally subsided into weak sniffles, he spoke:

"I thought about your question."

"Hm?" I said through my tears.

He replied, "Your question in the car—about why people die sooner than we want them to."

"And?"

"I don't think they _really_ die . . . Not so long as we carry their memory in our hearts." He chuckled a little. "This is embarrassing, but, uh . . . I guess I believe that as long as we continue to love our loved ones, even after they die, then I think they'll always be there with us. Even if we don't want them to die, at least the optimism of knowing that they're not _really _gone can carry us through. You know?"

I fell asleep on the phone with him that night, high on the euphoric knowledge that Roxas wanted to be my friend. I now knew that as long as I accepted his offer of friendship, I wouldn't be alone.

I would never be alone again.

x-x-x

**A/N: Again, sorry for the late posting. Hope you enjoyed!**


	6. Chapter 6

**UPDATE: July 14****th****, 2014! Yep, a double update since it took me so long. On with it!**

**NOTE: In chapter 2, I misspelled Brittany's name. I accidentally spelled it as "Brittney," but the correct spelling is "Brittany." There's no triggering content of the abusive nature in this chapter, but there IS a trigger warning for eating disorder-centric content in this chapter. Also, let it be known from here on out that this entire story is a trigger warning for the content I mentioned in the summary of the story. Thank you for reading!**

**Chapter Five - Semblance of Normalcy**

_Roxas's POV_

Over the course of the next week, my life seemed to fall into a routine that became what I expected. Every morning, my mother and sisters and father woke me with their ruckus, I drove the twins to school, and then I met Kairi and Xion on the front steps of our school's main building. After the day that I had brought Xion to my house to work on our project, a connection had definitely been formed between us, and we had become fast friends. Apparently, it didn't take much to bring her out of her shell little by little so now it was easier to get a smile or a laugh out of her. Kairi and Xion were already the best of friends—I never saw one without the other. They were usually leaned in toward one another, whispering about this or that. It made me happy to know that we were all friends together.

What I wasn't happy about, however, was Namine's sudden increase in attention paid toward me. In Choir, at lunch, in the halls . . . I saw her _everywhere_ and every time I did, she was watching me with this frighteningly blank expression on her face. Her friends would be standing around her, equally silent, the entire group just _staring_. It wasn't any better when I went home, either. She kept calling Brittany, who liked to sneak phone conversations with her, forgetting that our rooms were right next to each other. Namine had even sent me a Facebook message with the same crap she'd been saying to me since we broke up.

** '**_**Roxas, I don't even know why we're doing this dance. You and I both know that we still love each other. If you just come back to me, I'll forgive you for all the girls you've slept with since we broke up. You know you can't even function without me, anyway. I can make you happy. Didn't I make you happy? And why are you hanging out with Kairi and Xion? Kairi punched me, remember? And Xion stole my solo. You know how important that was to me, and she just took it away. And you're hanging out with her? Did you even care about me at all? If you did, you wouldn't be talking to them. I love you, Roxas, and I know you know what I'm saying is true.'**_

I hadn't even replied. The amount of selfishness and immaturity that girl had in her was repulsive to me. I wanted nothing to do with her. I was still beating myself up for allowing her to mentally and emotionally abuse me for so long, cursing myself for not ending our relationship sooner. If it weren't for her, I never would have joined the gang and I never would have gotten addicted to drugs or gone to juvy. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be so fucked up.

I was getting angry just thinking about her, and it was only Wednesday night. Muttering under my breath, I got up out of bed in the dark to have a cigarette at my bedroom window. I pushed open the glass pane, grabbed my cigarettes from the sill, and put one in my mouth. As I lit it, I wondered to myself about what I would be like if I had never even met Namine. Would I be a different person right now? Would I even be smoking this cigarette, standing in this very room? Would I look this way, with the piercings and the dyed hair and the rebellious style of dress? Would something have happened to me with my disease, and would I be in the hospital? Would I be . . . Dead?

As humans, there are so many possibilities and paths to take in the course of our lives, and it's honestly sad how certain choices lead to certain outcomes. It's sad that there is no way for us to _foresee _those outcomes. I wondered what it would be like to live someone else's life, with someone else's choices. I longed to be able to erase all of my sins-the arson, the drug deals, the fights, the debt I owed to Xemnas-so that I could live normally. For my family and friends, and for myself. I was working so damn hard to fix myself that sometimes, I just wanted to take a seat and give up. My life was a constant roller coaster of victories and failures, but it seemed like I was experiencing more of the latter. It was discouraging. I just wanted my family to love me and be proud of me. I wanted them to know I wasn't bad. I was good. My heart was good. I knew that _I _could be good.

I took a deep drag off of my cigarette and thought back to that Monday, when I had gotten yet another text from one of the gang members saying that they would be paying me a visit sometime this week. They had told me that I needed to have one hundred dollars by then. Luckily, I had that much to spare so I was just waiting, but I wondered what else they were going to be expecting. Xemnas was the leader of a notorious _gang_, and I owed that gang _eighteen hundred dollars_. It would be idiotic and naive of me to think that Xemnas was going to ask for only a hundred and then call it good. No, something else was going to be expected, and I knew I needed to be on my toes. I'd thought about just calling Xemnas's number and asking to meet _him_ someplace, but I knew that wouldn't fly. Xemnas was a busy man—he did things on _his_ terms and _his _terms only.

And yet . . . What if he sent his cronies after me at school, when I was with Kairi or Xion? Sora and I had both agreed to keep this whole fiasco a secret from everyone we knew, so the last thing I needed was for my friends to start asking questions. And let me promise you, if any members of the gang got to Kairi, she was _not_ the girl to keep her mouth shut. Why, just that day at school, she had flipped the fuck out on some jocks for laughing at the clip-on cat ears she was wearing. I had never seen a group of tall, muscular guys looking so pale.

I also thought about Xion. I had too _many _thoughts to give about her, though. I cared about her too much and not enough all at the same time, though I still didn't know exactly why. Every time I was around her, I felt like I had to shield her from anything and everything. She seemed so vulnerable in the way that she stood. And gosh, was she _clumsy_. Every day, she came to school with some new cut or bruise or bandage or wrap, and a different story for each wound. At first, her stories had been hesitant and somewhat unbelievable, but the more she got to know Kairi and I, the more believable her stories became. Stories like falling down the stairs, tripping over one of the thousand rugs in her house, bending down to pick something up from under a table or desk and smacking herself as she got up, running into the corner of a wall . . . She just seemed to have a lot of accidents. I believed her most of the time, but Kairi didn't believe any of it for one second. She hadn't said anything to Xion, but she was constantly telling me that she didn't trust what Xion was saying. Basically, both Kairi and I suspected something was going on at home.

Xion never talked much about her home life, and after that night that I had dropped her off and called her, I hadn't asked. I'd since chalked it up to nothing more harrying than a strict dad with impossible rules, and an angry teenager who hated following those rules. Xion was starting to act happier and happier by the day anyway and to me, that's all I cared about. As long as she was smiling, it was all good. Kairi begged to differ, however, and vowed that one day, she'd get to the bottom of it. Of course, she only made these vows when it was just the two of us smoking weed out in my car after school like we occasionally did. Xion never came (I didn't think she even smoked weed, and neither of us had asked her if she did or informed her of what we were doing), for she always had to go home directly after the final bell rang, so those times were Kairi's and my times to reminisce about the past and, in Kairi's case, make vows that weren't even going to be remembered once we were sober.

Another inhale on my cigarette. I gazed up into the sky at the few stars that could be seen from my house's place in the city. The sky was a dark blue-black and each and every twinkling star seemed to be watching me just as closely as I was watching it. Though my family was highly religious, I sometimes caught myself asking those stars if there was a God up there and what the Hell He was doing messing around with my life. Then again, God always has a master plan, right? Perhaps I was due for bigger and better things.

Bigger and better things . . .

I glanced over at my phone, which was on my bedside table, and I grabbed it. I pressed Xion's name in my contacts list and surprisingly, she answered on the first ring.

"_Oppa, yeoboseyo_," she said breathlessly, almost as if she had run to pick up the phone.

"Hey, you," I said, taking another drag from my cigarette and blowing an O-shaped ring of smoke out into the chill night air. "Whacha up to?"

"Not much, just doing homework," she said. I heard the rifling of papers. She sounded carefree and happy, which wasn't normal during our nightly talks. I had called her every single night since that first phone call last Friday and each and every time, she had been cryptic and sad. But tonight . . . Tonight was different. I had to find out why.

"You sound pretty happy," I remarked. Another cigarette drag, more exhaled smoke. "Why is that?"

"I do not know," she mumbled in English, since we had been working on it a little. "My stepfather left me be today. So I did not get yelled at, which is good. I do not know why exactly, but I am certainly not complaining!"

"Chyeah," I scoffed. "Does he yell at you every night or something?"

"You could say that," she breathed, and then changed the subject. "Did I ever tell you that American schoolwork is much simpler than Korean schoolwork?"

"Seriously?" I said, sounding surprised. I ground out the butt of my cigarette on the sill and tossed it out the window to the bushes below. "How can you tell?"

"This Trigonometry . . . I have done this before, last school year. So my homework is quite simple," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Sweet, I don't care," I joked, flopping stomach-down onto my bed and resting my face on my forearm. I skillfully balanced the phone on the upturned side of my face and continued, "So when you gonna let me come over?"

"Um, never," she scoffed. "You must be dreaming, sir."

"Oh, puh-lease, Xion," I said, "I know it's cuz you're worried about your dad finding out I'm there, but I _promise _you he won't find out."

"Nooooope," she sang out, and I heard the scrawling of her pencil across paper. "Not going to happen."

"Aw, you're no fun. Don't you want a cuddle buddy? Best friends can be cuddle buddies, can't they?"

"And who is to say that you are my best friend?" I could just imagine her arching one of those perfect brows, and I smiled.

"I am to say," I retorted. "Come _on_, just let me come over. I'll make it worth your while . . ."

"No, thank you," she said, switching to Korean. "I don't need your penis to get me through the night, Roxas."

I flushed and groaned, "Damn, Kairi's becoming a bad influence on you. Where did you learn to talk like that?"

She giggled. "I should finish my homework, Roxas."

"No," I whined, rolling onto my back and grinning up at the ceiling. "Keep talking to me."

She sighed. "Talking to you about what?"

"Um . . . Tell me about Korea," I said, yawning. "You don't really talk about it that much, and I've only been there once, when I was little."

She was quiet for a long second, and I was just beginning to wonder if I had dredged up old, sad memories. I opened my mouth to apologize, but she started to talk.

"South Korea is like the music that we made together on Friday . . . Hauntingly beautiful. Though the city is westernized, the countryside and nature are what I remember the most. My . . . My mother was especially fond of the forests near _Dobongsan _Mountain, and we used to visit it every Summer," she said quietly.

Her mother . . . Xion didn't talk about her mother very much, so I assumed the reason why she had moved here was because her stepfather and mother had divorced, and her stepfather had gotten custody. Like I said, I didn't want to pry too much and ask too many questions.

"Your mother must still live in Korea, huh?" I said.

More silence. And then a flat, "No. She does not. Not anymore."

"Oh . . ." There was an awkward silence, so I changed the subject to the first thing that popped up. "Do you have detention this week?"

"No," she said, and her voice was muted again. I knew she was thinking about what had happened to her at the last detention, and I felt instantly bad for her. She hadn't mentioned it in what seemed like forever. The one time Kairi had asked her about whether or not she was going to go to the Principal about it (on Monday, at lunch), Xion just walked away and hid in the bathroom. Kairi had gone after her and I hadn't seen them for the rest of the day. I had called Xion that night, however. She had been an emotional wreck, and we had ended that phone call with her crying herself to sleep on the line. Whenever she cried like that, I just kept quiet, unconsciously knowing that she didn't _want _me to speak—she just wanted me to be there for her. She'd never cried like that in front of me though, and I knew that if she did, I would probably panic. I really wasn't the best at comforting girls. I sometimes managed to have the right words, but I never got the actions quite right, sadly.

"Xion . . ." I started, trailing off because this time, I didn't have the right words to say.

"I had better go to sleep," she said, and I could hear her breathing pick up. She was about to cry. I could tell that she was trying to hang up so that I didn't hear her. Man, I wished she would just let me come over. Then maybe she wouldn't cry so much.

"_Ne_," I conceded. "If you say so. I can stay on the line with you if you want, though . . ."

"No, no; that is all right," she said. "I will be fine. Thank you, though. Goodnight, Roxas."

". . . Good night. I'll see you tomorrow at school."

x-x-x

The next morning, after dropping the twins off at Kindergarten and giving them each a kiss at the door, I decided to take a detour and pick Kairi up for school. I texted her to let her know I was on my way, figuring that I could talk to her about Xion _and _save her some gas. My parents paid for my gas anyway, which made me feel guiltier about everything, due to my hospital bills and the fine they were paying in my name for a past misdemeanor. I pushed that from my mind, though. Today, I wanted to ask Kairi some questions, since I knew that she talked more in-depth with Xion than I did.

She was waiting for me on the sidewalk when I pulled up, wearing a pair of black short-shorts, all-white lace-up Vans, and an off-the-shoulder oversized white shirt. Her hair was worn down around her shoulders with her bangs French-braided back along her hairline. She waved cheerfully at me.

"What's uuuuuuup?" she said as she climbed into the car.

I turned down my Attila and grinned at her. "'Ay girl, how you doin'?" I joked in response. "Don't forget your seatbelt; you're gonna need it."

I sped off, being reckless now that my twin sisters were out of the car. Besides, Kairi was used to my speeding. Everyone was. Especially the police. But I still did it because nine times out of ten, I got away with it. I loved the feeling of freedom I got from the fast speeds, and I absolutely adored the thought of breaking the rules and getting away with it. The risk was what I lived for.

Of course, it was that same love of risk that had gotten me into the current situation I was in with Sora and the gang.

Kairi rolled her eyes and slapped me playfully on the back of the head. "You're such a show-off," she scowled. "Now, you said you wanted to talk? What's going on?"

I sighed heavily and leaned back in my seat, using one hand to scroll through the music on my phone and change the song (it was plugged into my car).

"Well," I started, "I'm a little worried about Xion. Like, we talk on the phone every night, you know—"

"Yeah, I know," she said, waving a dismissive hand.

"—Yeah, and most of the time, she ends up crying for no reason, and never tells me why. So I guess . . . I guess I'm just wondering if you know why?" I asked, shooting her a concerned glance.

She frowned. "Your guess is as good as mine. Xion's really nice, don't get me wrong. It's just . . . She's a really hard book to read. I don't think she plans on giving up her secrets anytime soon."

I grimaced. "Is it selfish of me to say that I want to know those secrets?"

Kairi smirked at me. "You liiiiike her, don't you?"

"_Now, I'm not saying that_," I said loudly, rolling my eyes. "I'm just _saying_ that she's my _friend_, and I'm worried that those secrets she's trying to hide might be harmful. You know?"

Kairi pressed her lips together in a tight line. "Have you seen her bruises? No, I guess not; you haven't seen her without clothes on like I have in gym. . . They're really bad, Rox."

"Yeah?" I asked worriedly.

"Oh, yeah," she nodded deeply, eyes wide. "Seriously, she stayed the night on Saturday, and was freaking out all night. Like, when you called her and she was crying, she went into the bathroom and fell asleep on the floor on the phone with you. And when I woke up, I went in there and saw her arm cuz it was lying out. Like, there are scars _everywhere_."

I looked at the redhead in alarm. "What?"

"Yeah, totally!" she gushed. "And get this . . . She was changing later that day out of her pajamas, panicking because she had to be home like, right away, otherwise her stepdad was going to be all pissy. And like, I saw her back, you know. And it was _disgusting_. It looked like someone had taken a fucking bat or something to it. And she's _so _skinny, Roxas. Like, ridiculously skinny. I'm talkin' every single bone on her back can be seen. I'm telling you, something's going on in that house, and I'm gonna find out what it is."

"Yeah, but you're always saying that," I remarked, though this new information she had just shared with me was seriously disturbing to me. "Every single time we smoke weed, you say you're going to get to the bottom of it, but you never do."

"That's because these things take _time_, doofus!" she cried, punching me hard in the arm. I barely felt it, but I glowered at her anyway. She went on, "You can't just ask people if they're being abused, _Roxas_. I'm waiting for the right time. I've only known her a week-and-a-half."

"_Oh my God, Karen, you can't just ask people why they're white_," I teased in an obnoxious voice, quoting Kairi's favorite movie.

"Shut up," Kairi snarled, though I knew she was playing.

"Well, how long are you going to wait?" I asked, getting back on topic. "What if you're right, and she gets really hurt before we can do anything about it?"

"Well, then so be it," she shrugged. "Right now, it's not our place to interfere in her life unless she asks us to. We don't know her well enough. I don't think she trusts us all the way yet. And who knows, maybe she has cancer or something, and that's what all the bruising is about? We shouldn't jump to conclusions; it could really freak her out."

"What about the scars?" I asked, raising one eyebrow at her in question.

Her face screwed up in thought and she tapped her chin while looking up at the ceiling of the car. "Maybe she has a cat?" she supplied meekly with a weak shrug.

I shook my head as I pulled into an empty parking space at the school parking lot. "Mm, I dunno. You're right about not jumping to conclusions, but I think we should also be careful. Helpful, even. Let's just try to invite her out every weekend and try to get her to let us all come over to hang out. The more we get her out of the house, the happier she'll be. Especially if she sees she has friends and that she's not alone."

"And what if her stepdad _is _abusing her, and he just gets pissed that she's never home by curfew?"

"Well . . . Then we get her home by curfew every night? I don't know, I'm just trying to help." I scratched the back of my head and frowned sadly. "I . . . Care about her a lot already, all right?"

"I know," she said just as sadly. "So do I, Rox. So do I. Don't worry . . . We'll get to the bottom of it eventually. But until then, let's just do our best to be her friends, okay?"

I reached over and squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Kai."

"No problemo, Roxy," she said, grinning widely and back to her old self. "Xion's probably waiting for us, if she's already here, so let's get to the front steps!"

We ended up arriving there before Xion, and we sat up on the top step, playing _Words with Friends_ together on our phones. We were joking and laughing, not paying attention to any of the other students milling about outside, piling into the school in droves. I tried not to think about Kairi's and my conversation, not keen on believing that any of it was true. I didn't want to believe that Xion was hurting herself or being hurt in any way, so I wasn't going to unless I saw proof or had evidence. Instead, I would just focus on making sure she was smiling and happy, just like I had been doing.

"Hey, there's Xion!" Kairi said suddenly, hopping to her feet and waving her hand enthusiastically above her head to gain Xion's attention.

The raven-haired beauty saw us from the parking lot and started to wave back when all-of-a-sudden, a familiar blonde intercepted her pathway. Kairi and I looked at each other in shock. Why in the Hell was _Namine_ talking to Xion? I got up to go over there, but Kairi held out a hand to stop me.

"Wait," Kairi said curiously and quietly. "I wanna see what happens."

We watched the two girls talk from afar. Namine seemed to be waving her hands a lot and pointing, but Xion wasn't really responding. She just kept her hands folded across her chest, and her eyes cast downward, which was only egging Namine on. Namine was a bully, and she preyed on the weak. Xion was presenting herself in a vulnerable way, so I could tell that Namine was eating it up.

Finally, Namine stalked off in the direction she had come, away from us, and Xion walked quickly toward the steps. Unable to hold myself back any longer, I left Kairi with our backpacks and ran to meet her halfway.

"What the fuck was she saying to you?" I blurted out, livid beyond belief. "What the _fuck _was she _fucking _saying?"

Xion looked taken aback by my ferocity and she just stared at me apprehensively, almost fearfully. People were taking second looks at us, obviously surprised that I was yelling and cussing at her. Curse my temper . . .

I sighed heavily and irritably mussed up my messy, spiky blonde locks with my hands, a habit I had when I was mad.

"Look," I said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just . . . What was she saying to you?"

"Nothing that she has not already told me before."

"_Before_?" I exploded. "She's _already _talked to you _before_?!"

"Roxas!" Kairi hissed, pushing through me and grabbing Xion's hand. She shot me a glare and pulled Xion up the stairs. Fuming, I stomped off after them, picking up my bag along the way and slinging it over one shoulder.

I caught up with them and grabbed Kairi's arm forcefully, forcing them to stop.

"What the Hell, Kairi? You guys _knew _she already talked to Xion?" I demanded angrily. "Tell me what the fuck she said!"

"My _God_, Roxas, calm the fuck down," Kairi sneered. "Who the Hell cares anyway? Namine's a piece of shit, and everything that comes out of her mouth is shit. It shouldn't matter."

Xion wouldn't look at me, obviously uncomfortable in the face of my ire.

"_No_, Kairi, it _does _fucking matter!" I snapped under my breath, giving her a long, hard look. "You don't know what she's like; what connections she has."

Kairi's face screwed up in angered disbelief. "Connections?! What the fuck? Roxas, she's harmless! She has no firepower behind her words and, like I said, she's a _piece _of _shit_. She wouldn't dare touch Xion with me for her friend. Just stop freaking out. You're seriously acting like a fucking crazy person. Like, for reals."

I finally let them walk to their class, choosing to just stand there, absolutely through the roof with rage. I knew it wasn't Kairi's fault for being so confused and ignorant. Sora and I hadn't told her that it was through Namine's brother Demyx that we found out about the gang, who was a member. We hadn't told Kairi that Namine could have anything she wanted at the simple snap of her fingers. If she wanted Xion hurt, then it could and would be done. Kairi and Xion had no idea what they were in for if they were thinking about crossing Namine. And since Namine had become so interested lately in winning me back and finding out what I was doing, it was a bad sign for Xion if Namine was cornering her in parking lots. I had to find out what she had said to Xion as soon as I possibly could . . . Before Xemnas paid me that visit he'd promised.

Otherwise, I had a feeling the bruises on Xion's body were going to get much worse.

I turned and aimed a vicious kick to one of the lockers next to me, earning me a death glare from a passing teacher and the students whose lockers were beside and around it. I ignored them though, and jogged off in the direction that the girls had gone.

x-x-x

_Xion's POV_

As Kairi dragged me off down the hall and away from Roxas, I turned and cast him one last glance over my shoulder. He looked _pissed_. I felt guilty for not telling him that Namine had confronted me once before, but I honestly hadn't thought to tell him. Namine's words the first time she'd cornered me had been biting and fake. This second encounter had been no different. The only difference this time was that she was telling me that Roxas still loved her and that they were going to get back together. From what I'd heard about their failed relationship from Kairi, I highly doubted that, so I had just let her yell at me without responding to her angry advances. I didn't _feel_ threatened, but Roxas had been so beside himself that I wondered if maybe I might be in some sort of danger . . .

Beside me, Kairi was spitting out a string of insults about Roxas, obviously angry with him. I tuned her out so I could become lost in my thoughts.

Everything had been going strangely lately. After that Friday of hanging out with Roxas, I had sort of fallen into a normal routine with my new friends that involved us meeting before school and at lunch, and me talking on the phone nightly to Roxas. Aside from those things, I went to class and did my homework and did my best not to get in trouble so I wouldn't get detention again. Kairi had asked me only one time if I had any plans to talk to the Principal about my ordeal with the police officer, but I had become so overwhelmed that I just walked off. I hadn't meant to, but I didn't _have _an answer for her. How could I go to the Principal about that when I couldn't even go to the police or anyone else about what my stepfather was doing to me? I still felt dirty and gross and worthless because of it but honestly, things just couldn't get any worse for me.

Speaking of my stepfather, he had visited me every night like normal since the night that Su Jin had interfered. Thankfully, there had been only two beatings, except there was one strange thing. Just last night, he had left me alone. All day and all night, I hadn't seen hide nor tail of him. I knew he was in the house, I had heard him talking to some of the maids and moving about in his office and then later, watching TV in one of the entertainment rooms, but he hadn't talked to me or beat me or come to touch me at all. I had answered the phone when Roxas called somewhat joyously, because I was so relieved to be left alone for once. Of course, I had ended up wanting to cry again because Roxas had brought up Korea, which had made me talk a little bit about my mother. He had no idea that she was deceased and I had no intention of telling neither him nor Kairi, but it had still made me unbearably sad to think about her. Thinking about her just made me think about everything else that had gone wrong in my life. It had caused me to hang up quickly with Roxas, and then cry myself to sleep for the umpteenth time.

When I'd awoken, I'd blacked out on my way to the scale. I'd had to force myself to eat an apple so I wouldn't pass out while walking to school, which only made me feel guiltier and more awful. _Then_ Namine had practically pounced on me and the next thing I knew, Roxas was cussing and shouting at me in front of everyone. Just thinking about it was overwhelming me. I . . . I had to get it out.

'_This is all because I'm a failure . . .' _I thought despairingly, my head down as Kairi continued to prattle on. '_It's because I ate that stupid apple this morning . . . I have to get it out! I have to __**get. It. Out.**__'_

"I have to go to the bathroom," I suddenly said. "I'll meet you at lunch?"

Kairi looked confused and bewildered at being interrupted, but she nodded.

"Oh . . . Okay . . . Yeah, I guess I'll see you later."

Without a word of goodbye, I turned around to go back to where the women's restrooms were . . . And smacked right into Roxas's chest. His hands gripped me under the elbows to keep me from collapsing to the floor and I felt my heart fluttering in a panic. I didn't want to talk to him or anyone now. I just wanted to get to the bathroom so I could purge. No, I _needed _to get to the bathroom.

"Hey, wait," he said, stopping me as I tried to go. "I wanted to apologize and ask you if you would meet me in Library during your free period, right before lunch? I really want to know what Namine said to you. I won't get angry or yell. I promise."

I fidgeted with the hem of my long-sleeved black shirt so he wouldn't see my hands trembling—_I needed to purge. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now._

"Yes," I said quickly. "I have to go, though. I'll meet you then."

I dashed off before he could stop me, shoving through all of the students who stood in my way of getting to the bathroom. As soon as I was in there, I went to the furthest stall from the door, locked myself in, dropped my messenger bag onto the linoleum, and stuck my God damn fingers down my throat. Angrily, I used my stomach muscles and gag reflex to help me push every bit of the apple that I had so selfishly eaten out of my body, expelling its poisonous contents from within me. I watched it swirl around in the toilet, mingling with my stomach acid, doing my best to keep quiet so the restroom's other occupants didn't hear me.

What was wrong with me? Why did I eat that apple? It had been so long since I'd eaten and I was _so fucking close _to my goal weight . . . And then I'd gone and fucked it up. I was so stupid, so selfish. I couldn't stick to anything or do any simple thing right. I only had one rule for myself: Don't eat. And what did I go and do? I ate.

I thought about Roxas yelling at me and knew it was fate's punishment for me eating the apple.

'_He wouldn't have yelled at you if you had just kept your fucking mouth shut and put the food down,'_ I thought venomously to myself as I flushed the toilet. I straightened my back and instantly felt my head spin and my vision blur in front of me. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my fingers to my temples, willing my body to stay afloat. I couldn't afford to black out in the bathroom or else everyone would find out. Everyone would know and they would laugh at me and say, _"She couldn't possibly have an eating disorder-she's not __skinny __enough to have an eating disorder."_

Nobody could _ever _know.

I stumbled into Choir late, my throat burning and my vision still slightly blurry. Mrs. Waldemeier froze midsentence, obviously surprised that I of all people was late to her class. She pushed her glasses up her nose and wordlessly gestured for me to sit down on the risers. I clenched my fists and carefully avoided Roxas's eyes—he wasn't sitting at the piano today and instead was on the far end of the risers, as far away from Namine as he could get. I wanted to sit beside him but I was so afraid I was going to pass out that I just sat down on the bottommost riser, on the far right. Mrs. Waldemeier eyed me suspiciously, as if she could tell I was a bit loopy, but she didn't say anything about it and instead, kept saying what she had been saying before I had staggered in like a circus drunk.

"Anyway, the Winter concert may seem as if it's months from now, which it is, but I want to ensure that you are all practicing the songs as often as possible. This concert is always flawless, and this year will be no different. Remember, we're performing in front of the whole city—thousands of people will be there to see _you_. I want no less than perfection out of all of you. Now, where are the minor soloists? The ones who are performing in a group of four? Yes, I want you to come up and practice your song in front of me. I want to know if you've worked together outside of class at all yet." She signaled for Roxas to go to the piano as well, and then she took a seat at her desk.

As the four minor soloists began to practice their song, I found that the loud piano music was doing nothing to help my head. A roaring headache had sprung up, and my heart was fluttering wildly. I placed a hand over my chest, trying my best to remain calm as my heart stopped for a brief moment before beating rapidly to catch up on itself multiple times. I sucked in my breath and the girl next to me shot me a weird look. I tried to offer her a meek smile, but when I turned to do so, I saw more than one of her, spinning in circles in front of me. I blinked once, twice, and shook my head to try and clear my vision.

Something was seriously wrong.

I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands for the duration of the song and when it was over, much to my displeasure, Mrs. Waldemeier wanted me to come up next. I didn't even want to move, much less try and sing in front of everyone. I felt nauseous even though there was nothing left in my stomach to throw up, and I didn't even know if I could walk in a straight line. Still, I avoided Roxas's gaze. I knew he was eyeing me with concern and probably perplexity, but I couldn't look at him, afraid that he would know what I had done in the bathroom.

"Come on, Xion," Mrs. Waldemeier pressed. "Yours is the most important song of the concert—I would very much love to see what you and Roxas have worked on together."

"Y-Yes, Mrs. Waldemeier . . ." I stammered out, my voice hardly loud enough for anyone to hear. Leaving my bag behind, I slowly stood up and took a couple of steps forward. I almost keeled over right then, but I was able to regain my composure and put on a small, false smile. I looked at the teacher and once again saw multiple images of her dancing before my eyes. My heart kept palpitating, but I ignored it. All I had to do was get through the song as Roxas and I had practiced it, and then I could sit back down and rest. That was all I had to do.

I came to the front of the class, saw the sea of faces gazing back at me, some with jealous and angry sneers on their faces (namely on Namine's face), and couldn't help but look over my shoulder at Roxas for encouragement. Our eyes locked for the briefest of moments, and that was it.

My eyes rolled backward into my head and I collapsed to the carpet in a faint. I heard shrieking and gasps, people calling my name, felt hands all over my body and in my hair, but I couldn't open my eyes. It felt as if I were sinking into a deep, inky pit of tar and everyone's voice seemed so far away . . . I couldn't even differentiate female voice from male voice. My heartbeat finally slowed to a normal pace, and only then did my eyelids flutter open and my vision clear up. I coughed a little bit and found myself staring up into the same group of faces that I had been standing in front of only moments ago.

"Are you okay?" someone asked.

I frowned and sat up, a little bit confused. To my surprise, I saw that my head had been cradled in a very pale, very worried Roxas's lap.

"I am . . . I am all right . . ." I breathed, gingerly touching a tender spot on the back of my head from where I had hit it during my fall. "What . . . Happened?"

"You passed out, dear," Mrs. Waldemeier said, putting a comforting arm around my shoulders. "I thought you looked a little faint when you walked in . . . Perhaps you ought to go to the nurse's office for the duration of this class period?"

"Let me walk her there," Roxas insisted, starting to stand up.

"No, let me!" Namine interjected, sounding almost manic. Everyone looked at her, even me, and she put on that fake smile that I had grown accustomed to. I tried not to grimace—I didn't _want _her to help me to the nurse's office. She'd probably just push me into a trashcan or down a flight of stairs.

Mrs. Waldemeier nodded to Namine. "Roxas, I need you to play the piano . . . It would be better for Namine to walk her there. I'm sorry; I know she's your solo partner."

Roxas didn't say anything and instead, openly glared at Namine, who avoided his gaze and fixated her eyes upon me. Then she held out her arms and together, we got me to my feet. I shot Roxas an apologetic look but before he could return it, Namine saw and whipped us around so we could go to the door.

"Feel better!" a few of the Choir students called encouragingly after me.

I looked at Namine sidelong, wondering just what I had gotten myself into and what the Hell she was going to have to say to me when we got out of that classroom.

As soon as the door closed, she shoved me away from her and I fell hard against the wall. Gasping in outrage, I turned to glare at Namine in shock. I couldn't _believe _that she had just pushed me. And right after I had passed out?

"You can cut all of _this_ out," she said, holding up her finger and spinning it above her head in a couple of angry circles. "All of this damsel-in-distress shit. I know you're doing it so you can get Roxas's attention."

"_What_?" I cried incredulously. What in the world . . . ? Was this girl completely delusional?

She put her hands on her shapely hips and tilted her head to one side. "You think you're so smart, don't you? Acting shy and coy so that nobody can see who you really are . . ." I tried to back up as she started toward me, but I was already pressed up against the wall. She came so close to me that our noses were almost touching, and she touched her fingertip to the center of my chest bone.

She then breathed out acidly, "I see who you really are, Xion. I see you for the lying, sneaking, _filthy_ tramp you are."

I shrieked as she grabbed a huge clump of my hair and tossed me away from her. In my weakened state (since I most certainly was _not _faking it), I collapsed onto the ground on my hands and knees. I flipped my hair back over my shoulder with a toss of my head and glared up at her with a mixture of disbelief and anger. Was she really spouting off all of this nonsense right now? Was she serious?

"Stay the _Hell _away from Roxas," she spat out icily, pointing at me again. "Or I am _telling_ you, you will most definitely fucking regret it. You don't even know who I am, who I know, or what I'm capable of." She knelt down in front of me, her long blonde hair falling into her eyes as she smirked devilishly at me.

"Just _test_ me, Xion," she whispered. "Test me, and see what happens to you."

Just then, the classroom door swung open, and Mrs. Waldemeier was standing there with her arms crossed.

"What's going on out here?" she demanded. "I heard yelling and a scream."

"Mrs. Waldemeier!" Namine quickly reached under my arms and dragged me none-too-gently up to my feet. Then, she tightened her left arm around my shoulders and glued me to her side. "Nothing's wrong, Xion just fainted again, and I screamed because I was scared. But she's okay now. We're heading for the nurse right now!"

"No, thank you," I said, eyeing Namine carefully and then smiling meekly at the teacher. "I'll walk myself. I'll be okay."

"Xion—"

Ignoring Mrs. Waldemeier's protests and the looks I was getting from Namine, I turned and, mustering up as much strength as I could, walked strongly and surely away from both of them.

Once I rounded the corner and was alone, I fell back against a locker and buried my face in my hands. I didn't _want_ to stay away from Roxas. He was my friend and we shared a musical connection that couldn't be broken just because Namine wished it to be. However, I had absolutely no desire whatsoever to meet whoever it was that Namine "knew," nor did I want to see what the blonde was capable of. The rage and hatred in her icy blue eyes had burned so intensely that I had no doubt in my mind that Namine wouldn't hesitate to harm me if it would get her what she wanted.

Turning, I hurried off to the nurse's office, knowing that Mrs. Waldemeier was probably going to call down there to ensure that I had shown up. As I walked, my mind raced for a solution to my problems. I was already trying to deal with an eating disorder and sexual and physical abuse from my stepfather—I didn't need this to add to my plate of issues to solve. I didn't want to have to look over my shoulder in fear outside the house, too. The outside world was my only safe haven from the Hell I faced at home . . . Was it going to be taken from me, too?

By the time I had made it across campus to the nurse's office, I was crying silently and the nurse had already been called by Mrs. Waldemeier and informed of my fainting spells, just as I had predicted. The kindly old nurse led me to an empty bed that was surrounded by privacy curtains. She was very comforting, told me to lie down and get some rest, and then went to retrieve me a glass of water.

She never got to give me that water, though, because as soon as my head hit the pillow, I had drifted off into the peaceful escape that slumber offered.

x-x-x

**A/N: Weeeellllpppp, hope you liked it. Things are starting to get just a bit heated. A lot of questions are cropping up for everyone, and there's a Hell of a lot of secrets. We shall see how this all pans out. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**UPDATE: July 29****th****, 2014! Well, this certainly took me a million years too long. Lol. Anyway, thank you to everyone for reviewing! Especially Lotus, who diligently reviews everything, I love you mucho grande. Anyway, here we go!**

**NOTE: Trigger warning for violence and mentions of rape.**

**Chapter Six - An Unwelcome Visitor**

_Roxas's POV_

It happened on Saturday when Xion was on her way over to my house. We had made plans so that we could work on our project. She had informed me that she would be taking the bus because she had found a route that led right to my street, and that she would be there within the hour. I had reluctantly agreed due to the fact that I would have felt safer going and picking her up myself, but she had insisted that she'd be okay, so I just let her do whatever she wanted.

Today, I planned on finally getting her to tell me what the Hell was going on between her and Namine. Things had gotten extremely bizarre after the day she'd passed out in Choir (of which I still had no idea why _that _had happened), especially after Namine had come walking back into the room. The look she had shot me had been almost frightening. I mean, she was looking at me as if I were a trophy or some sort of treasure on display only for her. I don't know, but it gave me the creeps and made me wonder . . . What the heck had she said to Xion? Namine's calls to Brittany had also increased, and now she had Brittany spying on me from around corners and in doorways. I hadn't said anything to Brittany about it, wanting to see if I could find anything out by being idle, but it was getting pretty frustrating and suspicious. The bitch was using my little sister and I didn't like it when people messed with my family.

Anyway, I'd been asking both Xion and Kairi over and over again to _please_ tell me what Namine had said to her, but neither was willing to give up the information. Kairi was royally pissed at me by now and Xion was acting really weird around me. She wouldn't look me in the eyes, ignored my calls and texts, and the one time I attempted to corner her in the Library during her free period, she had turned and run back into the elevator looking as if she'd seen a ghost. My feelings were definitely hurt, but my suspicions had risen. Namine had something to do with this—I just _knew _it.

Determined to get to the bottom of this whole thing, I had calledXion from my house phone. I knew that she would answer it since she didn't _have_ my house number, and since she was ignoring the calls I made from _my_ phone . . . Sigh. She answered after a couple of rings and before she could say anything, I told her it was me and that I really needed her to come over so we could work on the song. She'd tried to come up with some cockamamie excuse to get out of it, but I wasn't having any of it. I told her that the song was really important to me and that I didn't know what she was going through right now, but that if she were really my friend, she wouldn't cause us to fail Choir. I felt guilty for making her feel guilty, but it had to be done. I needed to see her not only because my curiosity about the whole Namine thing, but also because I just plain missed her. It had only been a few days since Xion had started to avoid me but already it felt like I had lost something. I had quickly grown attached to the girl and I wasn't going to let her push me away for some reason known only to her.

I was waiting on the living room couch for her to come when my cell phone began to buzz. Thinking it might be Xion asking me what number my house was, I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen.

A text from an unknown number.

My heart sank. I knew instantly that this was Xemnas, come to collect what he was rightly owed. Why did it have to be right _now_, when Xion could be walking around the corner at any second? I didn't want to risk the gang finding out about our friendship because I knew how they worked. If you owed them something and didn't follow their terms, they could use your friends and family against you in terrible ways you couldn't even begin to imagine. I didn't want to see anything bad happen to Xion, so I didn't want them to have any idea of her existence. Hence the reason why I was so worried about Namine's involvement in my life and her talks with Xion. Namine's brother Demyx was still an active member of the gang—if Namine had let her know that she suspected something was going on between Xion and I, then Xion was going to be prime target number one to be used against me in the future. I could _not _let that happen.

I opened the text.

**Come outside.**

I dashed up the stairs as quickly as I could and gathered up the one hundred dollars I had stashed in the top drawer of my desk (plus an extra hundred and fifty that Sora had given me) and ran back down the stairs. I had my hand on the front door knob when my phone buzzed again. And again. And again.

I was getting a call . . . From Xion.

"_Fuck_," I hissed angrily before ripping the door open and running out into the driveway to the huge black Sedan with dark-tinted windows that idled there. I looked both ways up and down the street, relieved to see that Xion wasn't there yet. Good. So I had some time to get these guys out of here before they saw her.

The passenger and driver doors opened simultaneously and out stepped two familiar faces. One belonged to the brother of Namine, Demyx Lightle. His dirty blonde hair was styled in a modernized mullet and there was a piercing in his right ear. He was dressed head to toe in black, and just the way he was standing told me I had better be on my guard. He smirked wickedly at me.

"Long time, no see, Park," he said.

The other guy was also familiar: Xigbar. He had raven hair that cascaded down his back in cornrow braids and a jagged scar that bisected his face and cut through one eye, which was covered with a black eye patch. He, too, was wearing all-black, and he came around to stand next to Demyx.

"Hey, kid," Xigbar said in his lazy surfer's tone. "You got the money Xemnas asked for?"

"Yeah," I said, handing him the two hundred and fifty dollars. "It's more than what Xemnas asked for, and it's from both me _and _Sora."

"Good," Demyx said, watching carefully as Xigbar recounted the money I had just passed over. He then turned to fix me with a knowing stare. "Namine's been telling me some interesting . . . Information."

I felt my blood turn to ice. He was going to mention Xion and even now as he spoke, I could see her wandering down the street toward us, hand poised over her eyes to shield them from the sun as she walked. If he turned around . . .

"I-Information?" I stammered nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now, do you guys think you can get your big, black threatening car out of my driveway? If my mom sees it, she's going to flip her shit and call the police. You remember how crazy she is."

Demyx and Xigbar exchanged glances and my heart skipped a beat. Xion was getting closer, and by now, she had seen the three of us standing there. I hoped to God her instincts kicked in and she didn't come up to us.

"We have one more message to relay from Xemnas," Demyx said loudly, eyes narrowed threateningly.

"What, what, what?" I spat out in irritation. "Get on with it!"

"Watch it, kid," Xigbar growled threateningly.

I rolled my eyes and looked pointedly at Demyx, carefully avoiding chancing another glance at Xion.

"He says that next time he contacts you, you had better have another payment ready, or you'd better be ready to take on a mission or two for him. Which would mean what you know it means."

I glared at the two of them. "I'm not rejoining your pathetic club," I snarled. "And don't even think about asking me. We'll have your Goddamn payment; when does he want it?"

"He said you'd be impatient," Demyx snorted, taking a step toward me. "And he said you'd probably insult us. You're not seriously insulting my family in front of me, are you, Roxas?"

I stood my ground, not afraid of him and what he could do to me. I was no stranger to a fight with Demyx—we had argued and fought many a time back in the day. Of course now he probably hated me even more since I had broken up with his sister and wasn't giving her what she wanted and getting back together with her. I knew Demyx would have help from Xigbar if we _did _get into a fight, and that they were both probably armed with guns or blades. Still, I didn't plan on backing down. Not when Xion was slowing herself to a halt a few yards away.

'_Shit!' _I thought, anxiety rising within me.

"Roxas . . . ?" she called out in a shaky voice, looking from me to Xigbar to Demyx with wary eyes. I could tell she knew something was off about this whole situation.

"Xion—" I started, being cut off by Demyx holding up a firm hand of silence.

"And who might you be, pretty lady?" Xigbar cooed dangerously. He walked over to Xion, who hastily started to walk backward, away from the tall man. She gasped in surprise when he suddenly lunged forward and caught her around the waist with one strong arm and held her close, his other hand moving to cup her chin.

"Not thinking of trying to leave, are we?" he smirked.

"R-Roxas?" she called out again, fear heavily lacing her voice. She spoke in Korean. "What's going on? Who is this guy?"

Xigbar chuckled as if in reply to her terror-laden question and quickly whirled her around so that her back was facing him. He clutched her hair in a grip that caused her to cry out in pain. He wrenched her head to the side and pressed a deliberate kiss to the side of her neck, meeting my eyes with his as he did so.

"Fucker," I snarled. "Get off of her!"

I clenched my fists and tried to push my way past Demyx to go to the crying girl, but it was useless. With sudden force, Demyx slammed me against the wooden wall of my house, his forearm crushing my windpipe and pinning me there. I glared at him while I struggled.

"Don't fuck with us, Roxas!" Demyx shouted angrily. "Did you think you could hide from your sins forever? No one escapes Xemnas's judgment, you hear? No one!" He slammed me against the wall again and I saw stars in my eyes. I faintly heard Xion scream my name, but I was dazed and could only barely focus on what Demyx was saying.

He leaned in close, until his lips were grazing my ear.

"You had better fucking watch yourself for the next few weeks, Roxas," Demyx hissed. "One wrong move . . . And your new girlfriend over there is toast. Got it?"

I clawed at his arm, managing to push it away long enough to get a good breath in. I used one hand to push him away from me and before I knew it, there was enough space between us for me to make a move. I grabbed on to the front of his shirt and reared a fist back for the punch . . .

Suddenly, I heard the familiar sound of a cocking gun and I instantly let go of Demyx. My eyes were on Xigbar, who had the barrel of a pistol pressed up against a very scared, wide-eyed Xion's temple. I could tell that she was on the verge of hyperventilating and to tell the truth, so was I. I pushed Demyx away from me and took a cautious step toward Xigbar.

"Xigbar, _please_," I begged shakily. "Don't . . . Don't hurt her. She has _nothing_ to do with this!"

Demyx grabbed the back of my neck and roughly shoved me forward onto my knees. I heard him cock his gun as well. The metal in my hair at the base of my skull chilled me to the bone.

"Oh, but she has _everything_ to do with this, Roxas, and if you don't do as you're _fucking_ told, I will personally make sure you watch her die. Understand?" As if to punctuate his threat with violence, Demyx jabbed me in the head with the gun hard enough to sting.

Fuming, I closed my eyes and nodded.

"That's a good little boy," Demyx chuckled mirthlessly. "Now, we're going to leave, and I want you both on the ground with your faces in the grass until you can no longer hear our car's engine, _comprende_?"

After all of this was acted out and their car was gone, I scrambled to my feet and hurried to Xion's side. She was crying uncontrollably, obviously at her wit's end with terror. She had just been held at gunpoint by a strange man who had put his hands all over her—she was probably extremely overwhelmed. I touched her shoulder gingerly and was taken aback at how hard her body was trembling. Overcoming the initial shock, I reached for her again.

"Xion," I said slowly, using the same gentle tone that I had used when I'd rescued her from the police officer a week ago. "I need you to calm down and come inside with me, okay? It's safer inside. I don't trust that they won't come back. Can you do that for me?"

She nodded through her tears and allowed me to help her up and guide her toward the front door. Before we went inside, I turned to her and placed my hands on her shaking shoulders and looked into her eyes.

"Okay, Xion, you _have _to stop crying for me. If my parents find out about any of this, it will be bad for everyone," I said quietly, worried that my mother might be on the other side of the door, or something. She was nosy and had been known to watch me through the peephole when I had girls on the front porch.

"What if they come back?" she protested, her tears seeming to carve paths of fear into her pretty face.

I wiped those tears away, telling her to hush.

"Xion, shh, please . . . You have to stop crying. I _promise _you that you'll be safe with me inside, but we can't go inside unless you _stop crying_," I insisted, continuing our conversation in Korean to soothe her, practically pleading with her. She sniffled and hiccupped, but she nodded in understanding.

"_M-Mianhae_," she stuttered.

"Don't be sorry," I said. "Just stop crying, and we'll go up to my bedroom and talk about it. I just need you to look sane, just in case my mom is standing there, okay?"

Again, she nodded and we made our way inside. Luckily, my mother was nowhere to be found and neither were Brittany or the twins, so we hurried up the stairs and I led her to my bedroom. I shut and locked the door behind us, heaving a heavy sigh of relief as soon as I heard the metal click into place in the doorframe.

Xion took a seat on the edge of my bed, peering around my room curiously. Then, she wiped what remained of her tears from her face and looked at me sadly.

"What is going on?" she asked me sincerely.

"Nothing," I said. "I can't explain it to you; it's my thing that I have to deal with." I walked across the room and stood at the window with both of my hands placed on the windowsill.

"But those men . . ." she whispered, casting a worried glance at my bedroom door. "Those men, they had guns . . . They put it up to my head, and I was just like, am I gonna die? Right here?" I could hear her breathing quicken and her eyes started to dart about wildly. She was going to cry again, obviously traumatized by what had just happened. I had been in the gang for an entire year and had used weapons myself, so while I had been scared, a part of me had known that we would be okay. Xion, on the other hand, had no way of knowing what was happening, as she had most likely never seen a gun in the flesh before. She obviously hadn't ever had one pressed to her face, either.

"Don't worry," I answered her. "I won't let them hurt you . . . You'll be okay."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, still frantic. "Judgment? Sins? Doing what you're told? What did they mean? Roxas, what are you going to _do_?!"

"Don't worry about it," I insisted, tossing her a pointed look over my shoulder. "I will _handle _it."

"But—"

All-of-a-sudden, the rage and stress and self-hatred within me came to boiling point and I slammed my fist so hard into the wall next to the window that the skin of my knuckles split, leaving behind a gaping hole in the plaster.

"_Xi_!" I yelled angrily, turning to gaze at her with ire-filled azure eyes. "I _said _I would fucking _handle_ it!"

She shied away from me and strangely, instead of snapping back, her gaze fell. Almost as if . . . Almost as if _she _was the one who had done something wrong, even though _I _was the one who had made the unnecessary outburst.

"I . . . I'm sorry . . ." She whispered in a tiny voice, clasping her hands in her lap and watching the floor beneath our feet as if it were the most interesting bit of carpet in the entire world.

I felt awful. Here was this poor girl, attacked and vulnerable because of me and my mistakes, and I was yelling at her. I hated myself for having such a short fuse, and I hated myself even more for putting her into this situation. I should have gone and picked her up from her house myself, despite her insistence on taking the bus. I should have just done it because then Demyx and Xigbar would have come by my house only to find me not there, and they would have left and come back another day. Perhaps another day where Xion wasn't anywhere near the premises. Thanks to my idiocy, now the gang was going to have a weakness to use against me. Not to mention Demyx was going to go straight to Namine to tell her just who had been present at our little meeting, which was only going to make things _worse _for Xion.

Why had I gotten her involved in this?

"Don't . . ." I started awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck. "Don't be sorry . . . It's not your fault; I shouldn't have shouted at you. I'm the one who's sorry." Then, I sighed at the hole in the wall. "Shit, now my mom's gonna kill me . . ."

Xion still wouldn't look at me, so I went and sat down on the bed beside her. I touched her hand, which surprised her and caused her to turn to face me.

"What I was trying to say is . . . Don't worry about it, I'll make sure they don't hurt you, all right?" I searched her eyes for any sort of protest, but there was nothing but unyielding sadness. I felt incredibly guilty—had my yelling caused her to look so lost?

". . . Okay," she said softly, hanging her head again.

"Hey," I said, grabbing her chin and tilting her face upward. I gave her a crooked grin, meant to encourage. "I saved you once, right? Well, I can do it again. Have trust in me."

She flushed bright red and cleared her throat nervously, looking away from me.

"We should . . . We should work on the song," she stated.

I watched her for a long moment and then realized that she was right. The easiest way to forget about the day's events was to immerse ourselves in our music. I mean, that's how I stayed sane after all these months, having to live with the sins that I had committed. Demyx had been right: no one escapes judgment.

_You can't hide from your sins forever._

x-x-x

_Xion's POV_

Roxas and I called it quits at about seven PM. I had glanced at my clock so many times that it was Roxas who had stopped us, visibly agitated by my "obvious need to get the Hell out of here," as he'd put it. Not wanting to tell him about all the horrid things that my stepfather would do to me if I didn't make it home by curfew, I quickly made up a lie on the spot.

"I've gotta meet Kairi," I'd fabricated. "She's supposed to be coming over."

Roxas had eyed me suspiciously for just a second before his face relaxed and he sighed heavily, massaging his temple with his index and middle fingers. He had then given me that crooked grin again, nudging me in the side like we always did when we were making music together.

"So you let_ her_ come over, but not me? Eh, I see how it is . . ." He waved a dismissive hand. "_Aissh, _forget you."

"Waaaaah," I'd mock-whined. "Roxas, no~! It's not like that."

"Nope! Nope! Nope!" He'd denied it over and over, until I was pawing at his arm like a needy kitten and he was cracking up joyously.

"Don't worry, it's okay," he said, squeezing my shoulder in a friendly manner. "I get it: your dad's a psycho. But one of these days, I'm not gonna ask your permission . . . I'm just gonna come up to your balcony."

I rolled my eyes. "You had better not do that," I warned.

He just chuckled and turned his attentions back to the work we had done on the song, written down on the music sheet in front of him. As he scanned the page with his pencil, making a few marks here and there, I thought back to that afternoon and the encounter with the two boys. Whoever they were, they definitely weren't friendly and I had a feeling that they would definitely be back. I was worried that if Roxas didn't do whatever it was they wanted him to do, they were going to hurt me. After seeing how Roxas had punched the wall earlier though, I was starting to worry if maybe _he _was the one I should be scared of. Just seeing the rage burning like a ravenous fire in his eyes, icy and blue . . . What if that had been me? What if I had been standing closer to him? Would he have hurt me? Would he have hurt me like my stepfather hurt me?

Just thinking about it was upsetting me and stressing me out, so I distracted myself by checking my cell phone again. I had indeed lied to Roxas and would _not _be meeting Kairi, however I still needed to be home by eight tonight. My curfew was normally nine, but I was so paranoid of getting a worse punishment that I was shortening it of my _own _accord. I chanced a glance at Roxas. He was elbow-deep in his composition, so he didn't see me staring like a girl obsessed.

Why was he hanging out with me? I didn't even deserve to have friends, let alone a friendship with a guy like him. So far, he'd showed that he at least cared about my well-being enough to punch a police officer in the face _and _fight off a man armed with a gun in an attempt to defend me. I _wanted _to believe that he truly cared about me and wanted to be my friend, but it was so hard to even see the point in my existence that I was having a hard time believing that he was completely honest. I wondered if maybe he saw me for what my stepfather saw me as—a worthless whore—and he was just sticking around long enough for me to become weak to him and let him in my pants.

Dear God, I hoped not, because this man was attractive as all Hell.

Roxas looked up suddenly, a thoughtful expression on his face as he stared at me blankly, and then half of his mouth quirked upward in a little smile. The silence in the room was almost stifling and I wished I could hide in a hole. He was scrutinizing me so closely . . . As if trying to memorize my face. He reached up and moved a stray hair out of my eyes, and then his smile became whole.

"There," he said with an air of finality that suggested that he had just finished a piece of art.

"There?" I queried.

He tilted his head to the side. "Perfect," he said. And with that, he returned to jotting down notes on his musical composition.

I felt my heartbeat flutter and my face and neck go hot with embarrassment. Perfect? What had he meant by that? We sat there in the quiet for a long time, him working and me thinking about my life to myself, and it felt strangely comfortable. I could definitely feel his presence almost as if we were both glowingly magnetic but comfortable all the same.

"Ready to go?" he said after a while, setting his pencil down and stretching out his arms with a sleepy yawn.

"Yeah," I said.

"Cool," he said. "Wanna go grab a bite to eat first or something?"

"Can't," I replied quickly. "I'm not really hungry."

"Not really hungry?" His face screwed up in confusion. "But you haven't eaten anything since you got here—it's been hours. Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said, mentally freaking out. I didn't want him to notice—why was he noticing? I was doing it wrong. I had to fix it. _Fix it. Fix it. Fix it, Xion. Fix. It. _"I . . . I'll eat when I get home."

Thankfully, he just shrugged and said, "Okay. Let's get outta here then."

We were just getting up when we heard an outraged scream from upstairs, followed by a loud wail of, "_Aigoo! Roxas, get your butt in your bedroom this instant_!"

Roxas and I looked at each other with wide eyes before we both giggled a little bit. Looked like his mom found the hole in the wall.

We scrambled out through the garage, hurriedly slipping our shoes on before getting into the car. As we were pulling out, we saw his mother wrench the garage door open, waving her hands about and her mouth moving with furious speed. She was obviously pissed about the wall, no doubt about it.

"Welp, bye, _oma_," he muttered with an amused snort as he pulled out into the street and zoomed off, his heavy metal music blasting from the speakers with fervor. We sped down all the roads as if we had a deadline (which we kind-of did), and I found myself laughing still. Something about Roxas's family just made me happy. Maybe it was the memory of what my family used to be. Or maybe it was because the amount of love that Roxas channeled outward to his family was poignantly moving to me. It was as if he loved them with all of his heart and would do literally anything for each and every one of them . . . But they just couldn't see it.

"Hey, can I ask a favor?" Roxas asked after turning his music down and pulling up to a red light.

"Hm?" I asked, running a hand backward through my elbow-length tresses.

"Can you not . . . Tell Kairi about what happened today?" he asked with a disarming yet pleading smile. "Please? I just . . . I don't want her to worry."

"Okay," I said hesitantly. "I won't say anything."

"Thanks, Xi," he said, sounding relieved. "Cool. So, yeah . . . Just, from now on, don't even worry about a thing. I'll take care of all of it, okay?"

"All right," I said in answer. Kairi was a nosy girl and would probably find out soon enough from _someone _or another, but for now I supposed that Roxas was right . . . Kairi would just freak out and do something rash, and I didn't want my new friend to get expelled right at the beginning of the school year.

We fell silent again and soon enough, we were idling in front of my mansion. It was five minutes until eight, and I had my hand on the car door when Roxas grabbed my small hand to halt me. I froze and looked at him in question.

He smiled again, and I was taken aback at how handsome he was when he smiled.

"And don't worry about Namine, either," he added. "If there's one thing that girl can do right, it's talk a lot of shit and blow a lot of smoke up a lot of asses. I don't really know what she said to you, but . . . If she threatened you, I would just ignore it."

I chewed on my bottom lip worriedly, but I nodded all the same. I didn't think he was entirely too correct, and I also didn't think that he was going to stop asking me and Kairi what Namine was saying anytime soon. But the words were comforting, too—to know that he was on my side, not Namine's.

"You sure you don't want me to come in?" he suggested with a large smile.

I laughed a little bit and shook my head. "No, that's okay," I said. Then, I asked, "Will you . . . Will you call me, though? When you get home?"

His face softened toward me and he nodded. " Yeah, totally. Of course."

I smiled, relieved. I knew what was waiting for me when I went inside, and I wanted to have something to look forward to: a light to hold onto in the darkness. Just hearing Roxas's voice in that bleakness and despair would be all that I needed to stay afloat, even if all he did was beg me to let him come in through my window.

"All right, bye," he said laughingly, giving me a little wave as I climbed out of his car.

"Good night," I said before shutting the door and turning to go inside.

My stepfather met me at the door, a look of blazing suspicion on his face.

"Who was that?" he asked me, his voice calm. But I knew he was anything _but _calm, and I'm pretty sure I was about to find out the rules about boys in _his _house.

I opened my mouth to speak, but was cut off as he slapped me across the face so that my teeth cut into my cheek. I gasped in pain and held my jaw but I did not look up at him, fearing what he would do next.

"First, you shame me by receiving detention. Then, you show up at midnight like some thief, sneaking around at all hours. And now you let some guy drop you off at the house when he's done with you, like a stinking harlot," he snarled, then reached down and grabbed me by the hair at the back of my head, so that I was forced to look up at him.

"_Mian . . . Mianhae . . ._" I choked out, my eyes already filling up with tears.

"And there you go, crying again," he hissed, and as usual, I smelled alcohol on his breath. "Disgusting. Pitiful. _Pathetic. _I used to call you my daughter, but now . . . You're nothing more than a worthless _whore_."

I was unable to keep myself from bursting into tears when I heard the words spoken. I had been telling myself for weeks now that I _must _be a worthless whore and now . . . To hear it as if it were true . . . The realization was too much for me.

Suddenly, my stepfather did something he had never done before. He shoved me down onto the marble-floored entryway, right there in the darkness, and started taking off my clothes. I shrieked in alarm, the floor already hurting my bony back, and tried to fight against him. Right here? Right here, on the floor by the _front door_? Why was this happening to me?

"Well, if you want to act like a little tramp, I'm going to treat you like one," he growled, pressing his face into my neck.

"N-No!" I screamed. "Please! _Hajimasaeyo_!"

In the process of struggling against him, terror filling my body like the blood that flowed through my veins, I smacked my head against the floor. I inhaled sharply, agony spiking through my skull like a lightning bolt. Seeing that this had dazed me, my stepfather sat up, grabbed my head in both of his hands, lifted it, and then slammed it down against the floor once more. The cosmos seemed to spin right in front of my eyes and I visualized my mother in front of me. Was she watching this unfold right now? Was she weeping even harder than I was?

Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes as I was forced to lie there by the pain, unable to stop my stepfather from yanking my underpants down to my ankles. And as the blackness swallowed me, I wondered if Roxas was right.

My mother truly was with me, as long as I loved her and _that _was something to hold on to.

x-x-x

I awoke some hours later with a splitting headache, bruises all over my back and rear, a sore throat, and a sharp pain between my legs. I started to sit up as I heard footsteps pattering down the stairs and with horror, I realized that I was mostly naked, my clothes tossed away from me like rags, and my underwear still tangled around my feet.

Su Jin skidded to a halt beside me, tears pouring down her face as she wrapped me in a warm fleece blanket. She was shaking her head, sobbing, and saying, "I promised your motherthat I would protect you, and I have failed. I love you, and I have failed. I have failed . . ."

"Su Jin_ . . ." _I said hoarsely, rubbing my throat with shaking hands. "What . . . What happened?"

Su Jin locked eyes with me in the moonlight that filtered in through the front windows, and I knew.

I just . . . Knew.

My entire body began to shake. The bruises . . . The sore throat . . . The pain between my legs . . . It had _finally _happened. He had taken it too far and taken the one thing I had left to myself. I felt absolutely beyond disgusting and worthless now. What would my new friends think? Roxas? My sister Yuffie? They would be repulsed. My stepfather was family, and he had lay with me as if I were nothing more than a common prostitute. I glanced down at my legs and, upon seeing the blood dried on my inner thighs, I lost my breath and came close to hyperventilating.

"It . . . It's okay," Su Jin breathed, rubbing my shoulders as if I were cold and she were trying to warm me up. "It's going to be okay . . . He won't do it again . . . It's going to be okay . . ."

"Su Jin," I wailed, clutching on to her for dear life.

"Oh, Xion!" She hugged me back and together the two of us sat there, sobbing in each other's arms. We cried for everything that I had lost and all the things I hadn't gained. The incredible, unyielding abyss of loneliness that had become my life. The loss of my innocence. The innocence that had been ripped away from me with my mother's death, and completely eradicated with what my stepfather had just done to me.

There was no hope.

Then, as if things couldn't get any worse, we heard my stepfather's footsteps on the landing at the top of the stairs. He was polishing off a wine bottle and wearing only his boxers.

"Get away from her," he slurred to Su Jin, leaning heavily against the banister for support. "Get the Hell back to your room or I swear to you, I will fire you."

Su Jin began to cry anew and, as she extracted herself from my arms, I found that the panic rose within me. Was he going to come back for more if she left me alone? I didn't want her to leave me . . . She was literally all I had left . . .

"_Mianhae_," I heard her sob. "_Mianhae_."

I watched her go, my hand still half-outstretched toward her. Then, I looked up at my stepfather, my body curled up in the blanket like a small, cold animal. He looked back at me with so much hatred that it made me duck my head. I now understood. This was my fault. I had brought it upon myself with my incompetence, foolishness, and worthlessness. I turned my face away, not wanting him to see my shame and tears. I didn't want him to know that he had won.

That he had broken me.

"Get up to your room and go the fuck to bed," was all he said before he stalked back into his bedroom and the slam of his door echoed throughout the entire mansion.

I tried to get up quickly, grabbing my school bag from the floor where it had been dropped, but my legs and lower body hurt so badly that I immediately collapsed again, gasping in agony. It felt as if he had ripped me open, torn me in half like a piece of trash. I sniffled and bit my bottom lip hard, forcing myself up in case he came back out to check on me, and stumbled toward the stairway. I grabbed onto the banister for dear life, pain rippling up and down throughout my broken, frail body, and started the agonizingly slow journey up the stairs.

By the time I got up to my bedroom, I could feel my bag vibrating. My cell phone was ringing, and the prospect of talking to Roxas was terrifying. He couldn't know about this. Nobody could know. It was disgusting and shameful and he would only blame me. They all would.

No one could ever know.

I locked my bedroom door. My stepfather had a key, but the feeling of locking that door gave me a small bit of comfort in the night. Then, I collapsed onto my bed and forced myself to stop crying so I could answer my phone.

"_Yeoboseyo_?" I said thickly.

"Hey, _babe_," Roxas said in a joking voice. "What's up?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to push my mind away from this house of horrors—tried to pretend I was standing in front of Roxas, joking and laughing with him while we made music. I had to pretend like my life depended on it. _Nobody could know._

"N-Nothing," I stammered, my voice coming out in a shuddering way. "And y-you?"

"You okay?" he asked curiously. "You sound weird. Like you're in a . . . A freezer, or something. What the Hell are you doing in a freezer?"

I buried my face in my free hand and struggled to keep the tears back. "I'm _fine_," I insisted. "Everything is fine."

There was silence, followed by a heavy sigh. "Xi, you can't hide from me, you know. If there's one thing I've noticed about you, it's that something is _always_ wrong, you just never want to tell me what it is."

I exploded, "Because I _can't_! I _can't _tell you!"

I could almost see Roxas blinking in shock at my outburst.

"What?" was all he seemed to have to say.

My hands began to shake violently. I had just been raped by my stepfather and I had nobody to talk to about it. I had nobody. Nobody could know, and I wasn't going to tell anybody. My mother was dead. I was alone.

Why?

"I have to go," I said quickly before I hung up, the sounds of his protests coming out of the speakers before it disconnected.

I cried myself to sleep that night, asking myself aloud why this had happened to me, and why God couldn't just take the pain away.

'_Why won't you just let me die_?'

x-x-x

**A/N: Once again AGAIN, I'm sorry it took me so long to update. Hope you liked it!**


	8. Chapter 8

**UPDATE: July 30****th****, 2014! Yay for quick update! Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**NOTE: I imagine Xion to be singing the song '**_**Only Love**_**' by PVRIS later on in this chapter, so I encourage you to look it up!**

**A/N: Just a forewarning, guys: Riku enters the story as a major antagonist in this chapter, but do not worry: in the end, this story is a RoxasxXion fic; there will be RikuxXion for a few chapters, but bear with me. I have a greater purpose. –evil laughter-**

**Chapter Seven - Turning Point**

_ Roxas's POV_

The next few weeks passed by strangely uneventfully for me. I heard no word from Xemnas or the gang, so I found myself wanting to believe that it was all over. Sora continually reminded me with his intense paranoia that Xemnas was a patient man and could definitely lie in wait for the perfect moment to strike against us. He was worried about everything: about me, himself, our family, his dog, Kairi, even Xion (despite the fact that he had yet to meet her). He believed that no one was safe and that Xemnas would do anything to get what he was owed. After I had told him what happened with Xigbar and Demyx in front of my house, Sora wasn't taking any chances anymore. He immediately started looking for a job and insisted that I do so, too. Even though I hated asking my parents for help, I started helping out at their restaurant, busing tables and washing dishes every night for an extra hundred dollars a week. It tied me up so much that I hardly saw or spoke to Xion, and the only times I saw her were at school. We only practiced our song together in Choir; we had no more "connections" or "understandings" through our music.

Then again, something was definitely up with Xion. She had seemed . . . Different the past few weeks. More reclusive, but also more snappy. She seemed to get angry really quickly and more often than not, she ended up storming away from Kairi and I at lunch and hiding somewhere where we couldn't find her. At first, Kairi and I had assumed it had something to do with the incident with the police officer, but when Xion stayed home from school one day and then came the next with bruises on her arms, we knew it had to be something else. We knew that if we wanted to get our friend back, we were going to have to get to the bottom of what was going on at home with her. Before everything had happened with Xigbar and Demyx, Xion had been starting to open up and accept us—to trust Kairi and I. Now, Kairi said she barely got a text from her and every time I called her, she didn't pick up. In person, she was listless and quiet. If we continuously tried to talk to her and get her to talk, she freaked out, said we didn't understand her, and walked off. We didn't know what else to do besides complain about it to each other.

"I should just confront her about all of this," Kairi was saying in Sora's bedroom one October afternoon. "I'm started to get really annoyed."

"Babe," Sora said, shooting her a stern look. "You guys are saying she has bruises and broken limbs and shit . . . You can't get 'annoyed' with someone who might be getting abused."

Kairi frowned, reached over, and tugged sharply on a strand of his gravity-defying spiky hair, which fell into his cobalt blue eyes in a boyishly charming way. He yelped in pain and shot her a glare. She smirked at him before turning to look at me.

"Don't look at me for help with this one," I said, leaning up against Sora's dresser. "I don't know any more than you do about what to do. There isn't much we _can_ do. Even if we forced her to tell us what was going on, what would we do then?"

"Tch," Sora snorted. "You talk as if you already know what's going on at her house. You guys don't know for _sure_ if she's being abused. I haven't met the girl and from what you've said, she just seems like a bitchy girl who gets into fights, to be honest. The bruising, and all."

"Don't call her a bitch!" Kairi snapped, pulling his hair painfully again. "She's my friend still, even if I _am _annoyed with her. And I want to help her. I honestly don't think she's getting into fights or whatever. She's really sweet and quiet . . . I swear to you, I think something's going on at home. Something bad."

We all sat in silence for a long moment, each of us keeping to our own thoughts. I wondered if maybe Kairi was right. Xion was obviously hiding something and she was pushing us away in a desperate attempt to keep that secret hidden. I cared about her so I wanted to make sure that nobody was hurting her. And if I found out that anyone was hurting her . . . Well, I knew just what to do about _that_.

I crossed my arms over my chest and sighed, my cerulean eyes gazing over at Kairi who despite her tough exterior, looked extremely worried for her friend. Sora sensed it as well and had put an arm around her shoulders. Before we knew it, she was crying.

"I'm just really worried, is all," she said, wiping her eyes in embarrassment. "Roxas and I thought that if we tried to get her to hang out more to get her away from home, that it would be better. But all she's doing is pulling even farther away! I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to save her."

Sora frowned and hugged her tightly. "Babe, you can't 'save' her. The only person who can save her is herself. All you can do is love and support her, no matter how hard she tries to push you away. It sounds to me like she's going through some inner struggles that she hasn't found the strength to talk about yet. Just give it time; she'll come around."

I scowled and rolled my eyes. Leave it to Sora to be the sensitive, sensible one. He was always right, damn it. Especially in this case. We really _couldn't_ save Xion, especially since we didn't know what we were saving her _from_. We didn't even know if she _needed _saving in the first place. All I knew was that I missed her and I wanted to see her smile again. I wanted to make music with her once more. To feel the vibes and connection that we had when we were alone, getting ourselves lost in the beauty of those harmonies.

"Let's watch a movie and try to focus on something else, hm?" Sora said, more for Kairi's sake than mine. She nodded numbly, tears still sliding down her face, and Sora kissed her temple. He then got up and helped her under the comforters of his bed, tucking her in as if he were her protector. He smiled at her and then looked at me.

"Roxas, come downstairs with me so we can grab a Blu-Ray from the entertainment center," he said, giving me a pointed look that meant he needed to talk to me.

We waited until we were downstairs in the living room and out of Kairi's hearing range before we spoke.

"So how are things going coming up with the money?" Sora asked me in a fervent whisper. "I'm still looking for a job, but I helped my mom out with some things in the garage and around the house, so I've got enough for my half of the next payment, at least . . ."

I nodded, proud of my cousin for trying so hard. I wished I could say the same, that I didn't have to say I was taking advantage of my parents even more. I mean, they already were in debt from my hospital bills and fines to the state for the laws I had broken. Now I was coming to them for a lie that I had called "spending money?" It was a wonder they still could smile when they looked at me.

"I have enough for two more payments, but no more after that. I've got to stop working for my parents, dude. I can't keep fucking doing this to them," I said sadly. "They're barely staying afloat as it is. If they knew what I was really using the money for . . . It would break their hearts."

Sora's face fell and he reached out to clamp a hand down on my shoulders. "Don't worry, man. They still love you and even if they found out, they would still love you. They're your parents. Bro, I've been with you through a Hell of a lot of shit, but I've always loved you and I'll never stop. We'll get through this. I promise."

I sighed and looked away. "Don't tell Kairi, but . . . I feel like this stuff with Xion is my fault . . ." I said, scratching the back of my head.

Sora's brow furrowed and he crossed his arms over his broad chest. He played football at Central High, so he was more muscular and toned than I was, though we had similar statures. We definitely dressed different though: he wore expensive designer jeans from Buckle and three-quarter-sleeved plaid shirts and American Eagle polos, while I wore skinny jeans and V-necks almost every day of my life. Still, our differences in clothing tastes weren't anything to be bothered by. We were family, and family ties run so much deeper than jeans and tee shirts and shoes.

"Why do you feel that way?" Sora asked.

I replied, "Well, after Xigbar held the gun to her head, we went upstairs, and she was freaking out, you know. So then like, I totally snapped and yelled at her and punched the wall and told her I would handle it. I was cussing at her and man, she looked freaked the _fuck _out. Then, that night when I called her, she seemed really weird and off, and she flipped her shit and hung up." I threw my arms up into the air as if in defeat. "That was a Saturday. When we got to school the following Monday, she was totally different."

Sora reached out and slapped me upside the head. "Roxas, God damn it!"

"Whaaaaaaaat?" I wailed, rubbing my head gingerly. "What the Hell was _that _for?!"

"For you being such an insensitive dick!" he growled. "Kairi told me that she almost got molested by a police officer? And then she gets a gun held to her head a week later, and you go and punch a wall and scream at her like she's done something wrong? No wonder she isn't talking to you guys! Oh, my fucking God, do I have to fix everything?"

He turned to storm up the stairs, but I caught his wrist and yanked him back around. My eyes were as hard as flint.

"Not _everything_," I said quietly.

We looked at each other, holding each other's gazes for what seemed like forever in a silent challenge. Oh, he knew exactly what I was talking about. He knew that if it weren't for me and the things I had done for him in the gang, he would probably be dead by now. I'd taken so many bullets for him: I'd taken beatings and punishments in his place, even though I was the one who was sick and dying, all because I loved my cousin like a brother. He owed me his life and I had never told him so _because _I loved him that much. For him to say that he had to "fix everything" like I was constantly fucking things up, especially when he knew how hard I was working to change? Why, that was low for him.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, lowering his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. "I got worked up. I know what you've done for me, bro . . . I'm sorry."

"Nah, don't worry about it," I said, waving a dismissive hand. "Just don't tell Kairi about it."

"I can't tell her," Sora laughed mirthlessly. "Because then she'd find out we were in a gang."

I couldn't help but grin. Then, I turned and grabbed a random movie for him to take up to the moody, crying girlfriend of his that was lying in his bed.

"Go to her, man," I insisted. "I need a cigarette anyway. And besides, your girlfriend is lying vulnerable in your bedroom and your parents aren't at home."

Sora gave me a stern look. "Unlike _you_, I don't take advantage of girls."

I grinned wolfishly. "Yeah, well maybe you should start. The best sex is vulnerable sex."

"Oh, my God, Roxas!" Sora tried to smack me again, but I ducked just in time, laughing. He rolled his eyes and headed for the stairs.

"So should I just leave?" I called after him, still smirking.

"Drop it, Roxas!" he warned.

". . . So should I just leave?"

Sora paused on the steps, turned, and gave me a wide grin.

"Yeah, you'd better leave."

"That's what I thought," I laughed, shaking my head as I headed out the front door. Sora may have been a sensitive guy, but he was a _guy_. Not to mention, my logic when it came to women was flawless. If there's a girl lying in your bed and she's crying and vulnerable, use your wily man skills to get in her pants. That had always been something I lived by.

Until I met Xion.

Though I had just given that advice to Sora, I knew in my heart I could never do such a thing to Xion. Even though I found her ridiculously cute with an exotic sexiness that I craved in the middle of dark nights, I didn't think I could even _kiss _her. She seemed so . . . So innocent. I couldn't—_wouldn't —_take that away from her. Not if I could help it.

Still . . . If there was one girl I wanted in my bed more than any other girl in the world right now, it was Xion.

x-x-x

_Xion's POV_

I felt as if I was coming apart at the seams. It seemed like there was a black hole at the center of my galaxy, ripping me apart in a fiery inferno of loneliness and self-hatred. I stopped hanging out with Kairi and Roxas. I stopped smiling. I stopped all of the progress that I had made to collapse in on myself and wallow in my own despair. I honestly couldn't see any other option for me. How could I ever be happy? My stepfather was beating me on a regular basis, and he was now raping me at least twice a week. Su Jin was no longer allowed to have contact with me, so long as she wanted to keep her job. My mother had been dead four months now and my remaining biological family wanted nothing to do with me. How could _any _girl be happy with a life like mine?

I could tell that Roxas and Kairi were confused with my sudden reclusiveness, but I had no desire to explain it to them. They wouldn't care or understand, anyway. In fact, they'd probably leave me like everyone else. I didn't trust anybody anymore and I felt like it was better to pull away from them first in order to protect myself. Kairi seemed more hurt than Roxas did, what with the constant text messages she sent me saying "**I miss you**" and "**Why won't you talk to me anymore?**" But I also knew that Roxas had to be a bit miffed. It was already a few days into October and we hadn't had our weekly Saturday practice for our song in three weeks. The only times we performed the song together were during Choir class in first period every day, but there were no fireworks, magic, or sparks. I just couldn't find it anymore. I couldn't find the melodies or the harmonies or the feelings and emotions that I had shared with Roxas in the music. I was afraid that we would never have our connection again—I feared that my stepfather had taken that from me, too. So I kept myself blocked off from Roxas and our connection, thinking that if I cut us off by my own choice, it wouldn't be up to my stepfather . . . It would be up to me.

It was the first Friday of October and I had found myself in detention again. This time it wasn't because of tardiness, though. It was because I had fallen asleep in AP History earlier that week and it had outraged the strict teacher so much that the first thing she had done was assign me detention. So far, my stepfather hadn't been notified, but I knew he would be called soon enough.

Detention held nothing but bad memories for me, but I begrudgingly went because I didn't want to make my life any worse. I took all my homework with me, hoping to knock out a few assignments before I headed home. I took a seat at the back of the room, thankful that it was a different police officer this time, and started in on my Trigonometry homework. The detention class size was small today but I recognized one face from the first time I had gotten detention, way back in the start of September. When I looked at her, she just stared back at me almost curiously. Her sultry amber eyes flicked up and down my body and then she smirked a tiny, almost nonexistent smirk. Her thick, glossy black hair fell to her mid-back and she was wearing a pair of black combat boots that laced up the front. She also wore a maroon button-up collared top made of chiffon tucked into a pair of distressed black high-waisted shorts. She definitely looked stylishly tough, and the way she was looking at me made me feel very put on display. Why was she so intrigued by me?

The police officer got up and left to use the bathroom about a half-hour in and as soon as he did, I heard the girl clomp her way over to me. She sat down backwards in the desk that was in front of mine and watched me.

I looked up from my homework and raised one eyebrow in question.

She smirked again. "I remember you," she said in a devilish tone that matched the mischievous look in her eyes. Her teeth were perfectly straight and white and her eyes were smudged with black liner in a rougish, gothic way. There was a spiked choker around her neck and a septum nose ring looped in-between her nostrils. She definitely didn't look like the _safest_ person . . . But then again, my life wasn't exactly considered "safe" either.

"Hm?" I questioned.

She folded her arms on the back of her chair and leaned in closer to me, still smirking. "You're the one who caught the eye of that police officer. You're quite the little boy magnet, aren't you?"

"Boy . . . Magnet?" I queried, confused.

She chuckled and her laugh was weirdly sexual. "I can list at least fifteen guys in the entire Senior class alone that want to get in _your _pants. I'm sure there are countless more." She looked me up and down again. "I don't know what it is about you, but maybe Japanese girls are just sexy?"

I gave her a bewildered look. Was she . . . Hitting on me?

As if to answer my mental question, she said, "Don't worry—I don't want to fuck you, but I do want to ask you something."

". . . What?" I asked cautiously.

She grinned. "Me and my friends have this band and . . . Well . . . You got the solo in Choir after like, one try. And we need a singer, so . . . Whaddya say?"

I blinked. This girl . . . Was asking me to join her band? I tilted my head curiously to the side.

"You want me . . . To sing for you?" I said softly, feeling slightly honored. I had no idea that anyone had even noticed my existence at this school. I had even been _hoping _nobody noticed me. But I guess being one of the only students in the school that was fresh off the boat from South Korea, people were going to be interested.

"Yeah, dude," she said, grinning again. "I haven't personally heard you sing yet, but you've got to be good if you got the Winter solo without trying out. The other band members want to hear you audition, but I already have a feeling you'll be perfect. Not to mention, with some TLC, you'll look perfect for our vision."

"Vision?"

"Oh, come on . . . Just say yes," she hissed, for we heard the police officer's footsteps coming from down the hall.

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn't find words. What could it hurt? Maybe I would finally be able to find the harmonies and melodies in music again . . .

"Come _on_," she urged, wiggling her eyebrows.

". . . Okay . . ." I whispered, just as the officer entered the room. He glared at the two of us, said nothing, and snapped his fingers in warning.

The girl stood up and winked at me.

"The name's Tifa, by the way," she said. "I'll find you after detention, 'kay?"

I nodded and she stalked back over to her seat. I swallowed, feeling a bit nervous.

What had I just gotten myself into?

x-x-x

"Come over."

I tapped my pencil against the edge of my binder, chewing nervously on my bottom lip. Come over? I couldn't just . . . Come over. Things didn't work like that in my world, and especially not at eleven-o-clock at night. I ran a hand backward through my elbow-length ebony hair and sighed.

"Tifa, I cannot," I said begrudgingly in my less-than-perfect English. "I would love to, but . . . My father is strict."

"Shit, you're not in another _world_, Xi, babe," Tifa replied with an exaggerated scowl. "We have strict parents in America, too. Just sneak out, dude."

"I cannot," I replied adamantly. My stepfather had yet to visit me that night, as I'm sure he would since it was a Saturday. If he came into my room only to find me_ not_ occupying the premises . . . Well, let's just say my punishment would be so severe that I couldn't even begin to fathom what it could be. Besides, I had just met Tifa yesterday. Why would I risk my life to sneak out and go see her?

"_Xiiiii-oooonnnn_," she whined. "Fine. Then I'll come over there. What's your address?"

I shook my head, as if she were right in front of me. "Not a very good idea," I said. "I promise you, it will be bad if my father comes here to my room. Very bad."

Tifa grumbled obscenities under her breath before she finally conceded defeat. "Oh, fine. Fucking _fine_. You owe me, though. Tomorrow, we're hanging out. Anyway, what're you doing right now?"

"Homework," I answered irritably. "Trigonometry."

"Ew," she remarked. "Gross. Dude, it's a Saturday night; why are you doing homework?"

"I am required to pass my classes," I said. "My stepfather . . ."

"What the fuck, Xi, why _must_ you speak like a sixteenth-century Venetian peasant. My God, I need to help you with your slang."

"Slang . . .?" I tilted my head to the side and looked at my phone in confusion. "What is this . . . Slang?"

"Oh, my _God_, you need help. Thank the Lord I'm here. Whatever, anyway . . ." She talked so fast, I could barely keep up with her English. "So, the plan for tomorrow is that we're meeting up with the other band members at my house at like, two. Can you meet me somewhere so we can go to my house together?"

"Yes," I answered without thinking. Then, I mentally slapped myself. How was I supposed to get out of the house? I would have to think of something . . .

"Cool," she said, sounding thoughtful. "Dude, I need to do something with my nails. They look like horse shit. What the fuck ever. Let's talk boys."

"Boys?"

"Roxas," she said. "Haven't seen you talking to him in a while—not since that police officer tried to get it in with you."

I barely understood what she was saying, but I got the gist of it. She was asking about Roxas, and it caused my heart to skip a beat. He had texted me just before Tifa had called asking me if he could call, but I hadn't yet replied. I wouldn't know what to say to him anyway, especially not after avoiding him for three weeks. And now Tifa was bringing him up as if it were as simple as the weather. Not to mention, I vaguely remembered either Roxas or Kairi mentioning something about Tifa having once had a crush on Roxas . . . What was she going to ask me, and why?

"Nothing to tell," I said in a clipped tone.

"Mm," Tifa said, obviously intrigued. "Touchy subject, hm? You _obviously _like him. Why aren't you guys talking anymore? Did something happen? His dick not big enough for ya?"

I flushed bright red and my brow furrowed. "_No_," I protested adamantly. "It is just . . ." I searched for the right words. "We do not connect any longer. I am not . . ."

"Good enough for him?" Tifa sounded somewhat bummed. "Tell me about it. I had the hugest crush on him last year, but I just wasn't good enough for him next to _Namine_. Tch, that bitch deserves to die in a sink. Damn, I hate her."

". . . Yeah," was all I could think to say.

"Oh, well. I'm not saying I still like him . . . You can have a crush on whoever you want. Just know that there's a chance he might still be in love with her, or so she says. Who knows?"

"Mm," I replied.

"Well, anyway," Tifa said. "I'm going to call my fuck buddy. I'll see ya tomorrow."

She hung up before I could say goodbye, leaving me staring at the phone in a mixture of bewilderment and shock. I was pretty damn sure Tifa was no normal girl. She was rebellious and sexual and mysterious and all the things I needed right now, rolled up into one fiery ball of kick-ass. I didn't know why, but even though her words were vulgar and her honesty with me was a bit frightening, I knew I was going to like her. I felt as though at home, I couldn't speak my mind. With Roxas, I was too shy to say what I was thinking. With Kairi, she was so extroverted that _she _did the thinking _for _me. With Tifa . . . I knew I was finally going to learn how to make my own decisions based upon what _I _wanted for _my _life.

Smiling wistfully, I placed my phone on the comforter next to me and continued working on my Trigonometry homework. It was relatively easy for me, it was just that there was so much of it that it became tedious quite quickly.

My phone started to ring a few minutes later, and I glanced at it.

It was Kairi.

Panicking, I set it aside again. I didn't want to answer it. I _couldn't _answer it. I had ignored her so many times that I had dug myself into a deep hole. Talking to her right now would only bury me deeper underneath the ground. I gulped and found that I was so stressed out that my arm was itching. I looked down at the cuts that lined my flesh—the last one I had made had been a few days ago. I had eaten exactly one meal since then and to this very hour, I still felt sick about it. And now Kairi was calling me.

'_She's probably just going to tell me that she hates me . . .' _I thought sadly. '_I pushed her away, and now she's calling me to tell me she's done with me . . . Why am I such a failure?'_

And so I headed for the bathroom to teach myself a lesson. Perhaps I would think twice before fucking everything up again.

x-x-x

When I awoke, Tifa had already sent me a text asking me to meet her at some random bus stop. I knew I could use the Internet to map out the correct directions, so I went to take my daily, ritualistic shower. Today, my arm wounds stung even more but my bruises hurt less. My stepfather hadn't visited me last night, so that lifted my spirits just a little. Not much, though. Because I knew I would still have to deal with him tonight when I returned from Tifa's, Kairi probably hated my entire soul, and Roxas and I weren't talking.

Not like that mattered, anyway. Even if Roxas and I _were _still talking, and even if my crush on him grew, it's not like it would go anywhere. Roxas was on a way higher level than someone as pathetic as me. As I washed every last inch of my body, I was filled even fuller with disgust for myself. No, I wouldn't speak to him if I could help it. It was better to spare him my presence than curse him with it.

Even though it was sunny and quite warm today (California weather, Christ), I wore a long-sleeved maroon pullover from a store called American Eagle, opaque black tights, and a pair of ripped cut-off jean shorts with the pockets showing. I didn't want Tifa or any of her friends or band members or whoever they were to see what I had done to myself, nor what my stepfather had done to me. Grabbing my tan moccasins and my cell phone, I slowly made my way out into the hall. I looked left and right but saw nobody. The only sounds I could hear were of a couple of day-time maids cleaning one of the bathrooms down the hall, and another maid vacuuming the entertainment room downstairs.

I tip-toed down the stairs as fast and as lightly as possible, made a dash for the front door, and was home free. I slipped on my shoes, and started the long walk to the front gate.

I made it to where Tifa wanted to meet within the next hour and spotted her sitting across the street in the grass outside a hardware store. I looked both ways for cars before sprinting over to her location. Her hair was up in a messy high ponytail, her bangs hanging out across her forehead, and her lips were stained a bright red. She wore the same combat boots I had seen her in during detention the day before yesterday and a navy chiffon dress with an asymmetrical hem. Her body was obviously very thin and toned, and my eyes roved over her body quite enviously.

"Hi," I said softly.

She smirked. "Hey, hot stuff. You ready to meet the band members?"

I nodded and we set off down the road. As we walked, she explained whereabouts her house was and a little bit about the band.

"So like, we had the plans set for like, a million years but never actually got around to forming the band. Not to mention, none of us could afford instruments. This was in like, middle school. But then, one-by-one we got jobs and Christmas presents, and yadda yadda yadda—boom, we had instruments. Just no singer." She elbowed me gently. "Then I heard 'bout you, so I was like, fuck yes, she's our singer. So I ask you, and here we are."

"Oh," I stated. "And songs?"

"We don't really have any with lyrics. Are you good with writing lyrics?" she asked, arching one perfectly-sculpted black eyebrow.

I smiled. "I have many songs written in a notebook," I informed her excitedly. "Perhaps we could use them?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "There you go with the medieval shit again. 'Perhaps.' What the fuck, Xion? God, I _really_ need to help you." She shook her head as we rounded the corner onto a suburban street with immaculately-tended lawns and white picket fences galore.

"Sorry," I said, letting myself smile a little bit. I knew my English was a bit . . . Dated. But hey, it worked for me, didn't it?

We walked up the driveway of a house that had three or four cars parked in it and as soon as we entered the house, were bombarded by voices and faces.

"Tifa's back!" someone exclaimed brightly: a girl with golden blonde hair and emerald green eyes, and a sunny disposition.

"Did you bring 'er?" another person asked in an excited tone: a boy with messy blonde hair and azure eyes that reminded me of the sea. "I wanna see 'er—lemme see 'er!"

"Tidus, will you calm down? You're such a nutcase sometimes." A girl with cropped, styled silver hair put her hands on her hips. Her eyes were vibrant crimson red and her skin was pale as a sheet. She had almost invisible blonde eyebrows, so I knew she must have been born Albino, then dyed her hair. She was looking at me with a deadpan expression, as if she didn't care about me nor whether or not this "Tidus" was a nutcase.

"Paine, be nice," A soft-spoken girl said sternly. She had shoulder-length chestnut brown hair and the most unusual eyes. To my intrigue, one iris was a solid green and the other was a vivid blue. When she smiled at me, I sensed extremely friendly vibes from her.

"Honey, did you pick up the milk?" A kindly-looking woman with ridiculously long brown hair that fell to her thighs in a thick braid came walking into the entryway, looking upon Tifa in question.

Tifa grimaced. "Sorry, Mom," she said sheepishly. "Forgot."

"Tifa," her mother sighed, shaking her head. Then, she caught sight of me and her face lit up. "Why, hello! You're a new face . . . Who might you be?"

Tifa threw her arm around my shoulders and announced, "Everyone, this is Xion. She's our singer!"

A combined chorus of "Nice to meet you!" came hurling back in my direction, causing everyone to dissolve into laughter right afterward. I felt overwhelmed but in a good way. I didn't feel judged, and I got the impression that Tifa's friends were definitely excited to have me in their band, which made me feel better and more accepted. So I smiled in return and gave them all a little wave.

"Well, I'm Aerith Strife," Tifa's mother enveloped me in motherly hug that threatened to bring tears to my eyes. I would never feel my own mother's hugs ever again. I would never again be wrapped up in her warmth. But I was happy with this woman's extension of her warmth all the same. I noticed that she was wearing teal scrubs, had a stethoscope around her neck, and a black leather medical bag in one hand.

Noticing that I was looking, she said, "Oh, I'm a nurse at Providence Medical Center. I'm actually about to head to work right now." She looked at Tifa. "Tifa, your father's working the night shift tonight, so he won't be home until morning. He's napping right now, so try to keep it down. I, however, have a swing shift, so I'll be home around ten-thirty or so. Your friends have to be out by nine since it's a school night." She gave Tifa light kiss on the forehead, told me it was nice to meet me, and whisked herself out the front door.

"My dad's a surgeon at the hospital," Tifa told me after the front door swung shut.

"Awwwwww, she's so cute!" the blonde girl said, drawing everyone's attentions back to me, hopping over to me and giving me a tight hug. "I'm Rikku Hyun, and I'm the keyboard player!" She grinned and then surprised me by saying in Korean, "I'm excited to hear what your singing voice sounds like!"

"Mm?" I looked at her in shock. "You speak Korean?" I asked her in said language.

She nodded and giggled, "My parents were born in Korea, but I was born here, hehe. But yes, I speak it fluently."

"Quit conversing in tongues, dammit!" Tidus exploded. "You could be plotting our murders, for all we know." He pushed forward and held out a hand, grinning. "I'm Tidus Hansen. I'm the crazy drummer."

The girl with the silver hair snorted, "Rightfully so." She then turned her blood-red eyes to me. "I'm Paine Hartsong. I play one of the guitars."

I smiled at the three of them—Rikku, Tidus, and Paine—and gave another meek wave. "Hello," I greeted.

The girl with the two-colored eyes walked closer and gave me a warm hug that I returned.

"I'm Yuna Frerr," she said with a bright smile. "I'm not actually in the band. I just help manage it. Not that there's been much to manage without a singer, hah! But now that you're here, we can get practices going, and someday book a show at a venue or something!"

"Yeah!" Rikku gushed excitedly, clapping her hands. "We all go to Central High—except for Tifa, of course—and there's supposed to be a Battle of the Bands type talent show-thing in December."

"You think we'll be ready by then?"

Everyone turned to look down the hall behind us. A toilet had just been flushed and a tall, muscular boy with the most shocking set of aquamarine eyes I had ever seen stood just outside the bathroom. He was smirking as he walked toward the group. He had choppy silver hair that fell just past his ears in unruly, stylish layers. He was gazing at no one else but me and I felt as if we were the only two in the room. My heartbeat seemed to flutter, and I blushed, averting my eyes in embarrassment. He had a perfect face and perfect teeth, and was just _way _too much perfection for someone as imperfect as me. It wouldn't do to be developing _another _crush on someone unattainable, now would it?

"Of _course_ we will, Riku!" Rikku shot back in a playfully accusatory tone. She put her hands on her small hips and stuck her tongue out at him. "We may have the same name, but if there's one difference between us, it's that I'm much more optimistic!"

Riku stopped next to the blonde and ruffled her hair. "Aw, but you know your pessimistic brother loves you~!"

Everyone laughed as Rikku practically lost it, wailing about her hair being messed up. Even I giggled a little bit. In the midst of her panic attack, Riku stepped up to me and took my hand to shake it.

"My name's Riku," he said smoothly, fixing me with those unsettling aquatic irises. I felt transfixed, as if he saw right into my very soul. I stared, dumbfounded as he placed a gentle, warm kiss to the back of my hand. "Riku Hyun."

". . . Hi," was all I could squeak out without completely fainting. His voice was deep and . . . And _manly_. He was giving me the chills.

Tifa smacked him upside the head and put her hands on the hips. "Riku, quit hitting on her, dammit! Keep it in your pants for like, one day."

He grinned wolfishly. "Sorry, Tifa, but you know I can't help it when I get around pretty girls."

Paine scowled. "And he keeps going with it," she said, folding her arms across her chest. Both she and Tifa fixed him with stern glares until he took a step back from me, his hands held up defensively.

"All right, all right. Don't get your pannies in a bunch, ladies." He smiled at me again, a little less intensely than before and said, "I'm the bassist for the band. Heard you're the new singer?"

I nodded. "Y-Yes." I could barely find words around this guy. He towered over me by what felt like miles and was even more intimidating than Roxas, whose temper had scared me on more than one occasion.

He spread his arms wide. "Then what the fuck are we all hanging around here for? Let's get out to the garage and see what she's got!"

"All right!" Tidus and Rikku cheered, and we all filed down the hall behind Tifa, who led us to the door out to the garage, As we stepped into the dimly-lit room, I saw that it was decorated more like a hang out space than the plainness one would expect for a garage. There were multiple black area rugs spread across the ground, the walls were painted maroon, and white Christmas lights were strewn about the ceiling like streamers, casting a yellowish glow about the room. In one corner, there was a refrigerator and a freezer box. In the opposite corner, there was a card table and chairs, and also a wall shelf that held a microwave upon it. There were two cushioned couches colored red set up against the big garage door, one of which held all the girls' bags and purses. In the center of the large room was all of the band equipment such as two guitars, one bass, a keyboard on a stand, a microphone, and a silver drum set. Everything was plugged in to multiple amps and speakers, and I had a feeling this band was not mellow by _any _means.

"Welcome to our practice space!" Tifa said, nudging me. "You like it?"

"Mm-hm," I nodded.

"Hm, a woman of few words, I take it?" Yuna laughed softly. "Our Paine's just the same. You guys will definitely get along."

Paine and I exchanged glances, giving each other each a slight smile, and then everyone dispersed to different places around the room. Tidus and Yuna flopped down on the couch to cuddle, obviously the couple in the group of friends, Tifa and Paine went to the refrigerator to grab sodas, and Rikku skipped over to her keyboard to turn it on and mess around on the keys with some free-styling. On the other hand, Riku and I remained right where we stood. I could feel his eyes boring holes into the side of my face, much like what Roxas had done when we first met. However, this time I was bold enough to turn and gaze back at him.

"Are you nervous?" Riku asked quietly, his voice rolling like silver liquid down my back.

"No," I answered truthfully. I had nothing to be nervous about; if there was one thing I was surely confident about, it was my singing voice.

"Impressive," he said with a smirk, leaning in closer. "You must not be a virgin to this whole singing thing," he said quieter, so that I had to move closer to hear him. When I heard what he said, I couldn't help but flush several shades of red and look at him in surprise. He grinned mischievously. "Why don't you show me what you can do?"

I felt challenged, so I bristled.

"All right," I said, drawing my shoulders back and stalking over to the microphone.

"Quiet, everyone!" Rikku yelled. "Xion's about to sing! Here, lemme turn the speakers on for you and stuff . . ."

As Rikku set things up for me to use the microphone, I racked my brain for a song that I could sing that would adequately show them my talents, and also show them that I could sing the way they wanted me to. These people were nice people, but they were obviously rebellious in some ways. It was plain to see that they played rock music of some sort, so I was going to have to sing in that type of style. I was going to have to draw upon the rebelliousness within _me_ and use it to fuel my song. I was going to have to look inside myself and find that connection that Roxas and I had, but this time . . . I would be experiencing it alone.

And so I sang. I forgot all about everyone and everything and I sang. I sang my damn heart out, as if I had something to prove to not only them, but also to myself. I thought about what my stepfather had been doing to me and the travesty he had committed. The innocence he had stolen. I found sadness within my heart, of course, but I also found anger. I grabbed hold of it and brought it out into my voice, and sang whatever words came to my lips to express my emotions. When the last word left my lips, there was tense, shocked silence for a long time.

"Holy. Fucking. Shit," Tifa breathed before she pumped her fist into the air. "Fuck _yes_, I _told _you guys she was perfect!"

"She did say that, actually," Tidus laughed. "But yeah, you're awesome, Xion!"

"_Exactly_ what we've been looking for." Riku's eyes smoldered as he smiled at me, and I found that I _really _couldn't look away this time.

"Well, what do you say we start teaching her one of our songs?" Paine suggested. "We aren't gonna get anything done if we stand around, talking about how awesome she is."

"We don't _have _any songs, Paine," Rikku snapped, glaring at her. "At least . . . No songs that have lyrics, heh heh . . ."

"Do you write songs, Xion?" Tifa asked, putting her hands on her hips. "Because that would be helpful. None of us have those particular . . . Skills."

"I do," Riku said, "But you guys don't like my ideas."

Yuna snorted from her place on the couch and arched one eyebrow. "That's because all of your song ideas are about weird things like zombies . . . And . . . And abortion . . . Not cool, Riku."

I frowned. "Maybe . . . We can work together?" I suggested. "I can write, but my music is kinda dramatic."

"Like . . . Sad?" Rikku asked.

I pointed and nodded enthusiastically. "Mm, yes! Yes. Sad."

"That could work together," Riku said appreciatively before he flashed me that incredibly handsome smile. "Why don't we work on a song together and see what we can come up with?"

"That's a really good idea!" Tifa said loudly, giving me a rougish wink. "Why don't you two go inside and go do that?" Surprisingly enough, she grabbed me and Riku each by the arm and dragged us over to the door that led into the house, smiling from one to the other. "Come back in a few hours when you've come up with something."

"Oh," I said, blushing at the thought of being alone in a room with a male, let alone someone like Riku. "I do not know if—"

"Sounds good!" Riku cut me off, placing a large hand on my shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. I looked up at him with a doe-eyed expression, shocked. He _wanted _to work alone with me? I had to admit that I was surprised. Not only was I nervous about being alone with a boy after what my stepfather had done to me, but this guy was _way _out of my league. Why would he want anything to do with me?

Before I knew it, we were inside the house and Tifa had shut the garage door with one final: "Don't have sex in my bed, 'kay thanks."

Riku chuckled. "That's Tifa for ya . . . No filter on that mouth of hers."

I couldn't help but giggle a little bit. I'd only known the girl for one day, and I already knew how true it was. She really _didn't _have a filter.

Riku smiled. "Anyway, wanna head up there? It's the second door on the right. I've got to go out to my car and grab my notebook from my backpack. All of my songs are written down in there. I'll be back in a sec."

I nodded and watched him jog down the hall and toward the front door, swallowing back my trepidation. I hoped I wasn't making a mistake . . .

Reluctantly and nervously, I made way for the staircase.

x-x-x

**A/N: I hope the rapid update made up for the fact that I took so long to update last xD Love to my reviewers!**


	9. Chapter 9

**UPDATE!: Sorry for the lateness, guys. I don't have my computer, so I had to edit this on my phone =.= It sucked as much ass as possible. Anyway, I'm on vacation on the mainland visiting family now, so this upcoming week I should be able to update more and also I hope to update **_**Finding Hikari **_**this week, too! Stay tuned.**

**NOTE: Shout out to**_** Transformers**_** for being my favorite. I am married to Optimus Prime, people. I am 22 years old and married to a giant robot. Holla.**

**A/N: Welcome to the newest chappie, guys! Beware, this chapter has a rape scene that's more horrifying than the first one. THIS CHAPTER IS HORRIFYINGLY RATED M.**

**Chapter 8: Jealous Tendencies**

_Roxas's POV_

I was always one to get jealous easily and I was notorious for it. When I was dating Namine, there were countless times when I'd had to break a nose or two, let me tell you what. There was even one time where we were standing in line for a _Transformers _premiere. Namine was chatting with one of her friends and there was a guy a few groups back in the line who kept looking at her, licking his lips and whatnot. So, without a word to anyone, I calmly walked up to him . . . And beat the shit out him. Of course, he was sent to the hospital and of course I was no longer allowed to the theater (I was banned for the rest of the year, actually), but I didn't care.

Nobody looked at my girl like that.

So you can imagine how I felt when I saw the girl I currently liked with some random silver-haired dick the Monday three weeks before Halloween. I _did not_ like it.

"Dude, what the _fuck_?" Kairi said from beside me in the lunchroom that day. I looked questioningly at her. Her crimson-red hair was pulled up into a messy high ponytail and her cerulean eyes were blazing with anger.

"Hm?" I asked.

"Dude, I fucking just texted Xion and she ignored me. Like I fucking watched her check her phone, and then she just put it back into her pocket. Like, what the _fuck_?" She slammed her own cell phone down on the table and pushed her lunch plate away in anger. "I'm so pissed. She ignored my calls all fucking weekend and she's been avoiding us for weeks. Now she comes walking in here like she's best buds with Tifa and her douche bag friend? I mean, who the fuck _is _that guy?"

"I don't fucking know," I said darkly. "He doesn't even go here—he must be here for lunch."

"Chyeah," Kairi scoffed. "How the fuck did Xi become friendswith _Tifa_? She's so . . . Ugh!"

I couldn't help but smirk at her. "Getting a little envious, are we?"

She glowered at me. "Like you're one to talk? You've been glaring at the guy that's standing next to them all of lunch!" She reached for a fry from my plate. "We're not so different, you and I," she said in a mock-British accent.

"Whatever," I said. "I just want to know what the fuck is going on."

"Let's go up to them," Kairi suggested eagerly, her eyes lighting up. "Xion can't get away if we—"

"Too late," I laughed mirthlessly, gesturing to the group of three walking out of the Cafeteria. Kairi scowled and jammed more fries into her mouth, her voice coming out muffled around the mouthful of potatoey goodness. I chuckled and slid my can of Pepsi over to her. She rolled her eyes and guzzled the rest of it down.

"Attractive, I know," she muttered. "Ugh, this is so frustrating. It's me, here—you know I don't get choked up over girls like this. I have you and I have Sora. I don't need girlfriends."

"But . . . ?" I raised my brows.

She sighed and buried her face in her hands. "Ah, woe is me . . . I thought she was different. She was so cute and laid back and just . . . Cool. I don't know. We used to talk about shit, you know? I mean, we didn't talk much about _her_, but at least she listened to me when I talked about my problems. She was a good friend, you know?"

I knew, all right. Xion was the only girl I had ever been able to share my love of music with _and _make a musical connection at the same time. I didn't know much about her personal life, so honestly, I didn't really know _her_. All I knew was that it felt like I was losing a part of myself. I didn't know what I would do if I couldn't ever make that connection with her again, musical or personal. Would I ever again find someone like her?

"We'll get her back," I encouraged quietly, patting Kairi on the arm. "She's probably just going through something. Remember what Sora said?"

"Yeah," she mumbled. "It still sucks, though. She was laughing and talking with them—it used to be like pulling teeth to get her to open up with _me_. What's so cool about Tifa, anyway? She's slept with like every guy at Central and now she's working her way through the guys here. Does Xion really wanna associate with someone like that?"

I was quiet for a second. If Sora were here with us, he'd probably have some sort of smart advice about not talking bad about other people. Or maybe he'd scold us and whine about the fact that we didn't know Tifa that well, so how could we know things about her personal life? But since it was me and not Sora, I just stayed mute. I didn't have anything nice to say about whoever that guy was, but I was damn sure going to find some information about him by the end of the day.

x-x-x

I skipped the rest of my school day and went straight to the Library to do some online digging. First order of business though was to text Sora and ask him if he knew anything about the silver-haired guy that Kairi and I had seen at lunch.

**Why? **was his reply.

**Because. Just tell me—do you know him? Tall, muscles, long silver hair in a ponytail?**

** Yeah. He's pretty popular here with the girls. Hangs out with Tifa and her friends sometimes; I see them here at lunch other days. I guess Tifa comes to visit a lot.**

Angrily I slammed my phone down on the tabletop next to the keyboard of the computer I had chosen to sit down at, attracting a few stares from other students in the vicinity. I ignored them and stared at the computer screen. I didn't know why I was so livid, but something about the fact that Tifa had known this guy prior to her befriending Xion angered me. Did Tifa still have a crush on me? Was this part of some strange plan to keep me available? My extensive worry about Xion's well-being was starting to build up into a hurricane, swirling deep within me. I hadn't heard from the gang in a while, but I knew Xion was still going to be under their radar. I had to protect her even if we weren't talking at the moment. I still liked her and I didn't want to see her negatively affected by my mistakes. I had already fucked things up with my family and I was still paying for it. I didn't want to fuck things up even more with Xion.

And due to my nagging suspicions, I sincerely hoped Namine had nothing to do with this whole entire thing.

I was just about to pick up the phone and call Namine to chew her out when the bitch herself came sashaying in through the Library doors. We spotted each other immediately, and the smirk on her face was enough to make me want to slap her. I rose to my feet, grabbed my things, and stormed over to her.

"Long time no see, baby," she said, stepping up to me and sliding her hand up my chest.

Disgusted, I grabbed her wrist and shoved her unmercifully away from me.

"I don't know what the fuck you have planned, but leave Xion out of it," I snarled, tossing my head to get my bangs out of my eyes.

Shocked at having been pushed, she quickly put on a mask of innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about, baby."

"Drop the act, Namine," I spat, trying to put all of my hatred for her into my voice. "You and I are never getting back together. Fucking with Xion isn't going to change that. So leave her the Hell alone and stay out of our lives."

Namine's eyes turned hard and all trace of kindness vanished from her face. "Excuse me, but if I'm not blind, I can tell you guys don't even talk anymore. So it wouldn't matter what I do to Xion, even if I _was _fucking with her." She sneered and looked me up and down. "And as for the way you're talking to me, you'd better watch it. I was under the impression that my brother paid you and little Miss Xion a friendly visit a few weeks ago and if you aren't careful, they might just pay you another one. Whether you and Xion are friends or not, she's involved in this and nothing is going to change _that_."

I closed my eyes, struggling to control my temper. Every time Namine and I talked, it escalated into a ridiculous shouting match that I couldn't afford to have right now. I already _knew _that Xion was in danger of being targeted by the gang—Namine had purely brought it up to piss me off and make me feel guilty. I _already _felt guilty. I didn't want Xion to be caught in the cross-hairs of my own mistakes.

"Just . . . Just leave her alone, okay?" I said quietly. "Please?"

Namine pushed past me, saying only: "You'd better be at my Halloween party in a few weeks. _Solo_."

I wanted to throw my hands up into the air and scream out my rage. She was so difficult. She was rude and spiteful and I just _knew _she had something up her sleeve. Whoever the silver-haired guy was, he was friends with Tifa and knowing Tifa's family for as long as I had, it was odd that I had never seen him before today. I wondered if maybe Namine might have anything to do with it, though I was probably just grasping at straws. Truthfully, I just wanted to know what was going on, and even though I knew I was probably overreacting (After all, the guy hadn't even touched Xion from what I'd seen; he had just been standing awfully close to her) about the whole situation, I didn't care. I was pissed off and jealous. I didn't want Xion having the chance to connect with anyone else but _me_.

Damn it all to Hell.

I left the Library quickly, refusing to take a second glance behind me.

x-x-x

_Xion's POV_

I stared at my bedroom door, knees pulled up to my chest in a protective manner. My stepfather was pounding on the door viciously, each strike of his heavy fist against the wood making me cringe. I looked up at the ceiling in the darkness, tears sliding down my cheeks as I begged God to make it stop. This was the third time this week and this time, he was even angrier than the last time. I knew he was going to rape me again and there was nothing I could do. This time I had royally pissed him off by bringing Riku over to the house earlier to work on a song together. When my stepfather had returned home from work to find Riku getting into his car to go home, I had known I was in trouble. He had slammed the front door behind him, gazing coolly up at the top of the stairs, where I was standing after having said good bye to Riku.

Immediately, I had turned tail and fled to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me without even bothering to turn on the light. It was almost ten PM and my stepfather had obviously driven home drunk. The obscenities he was hurling through the door at me were testament to that. Half of me wanted to unlock the door just to get it over with because the nightmarish anticipation was too much to bear. Before I could do anything though, I heard the telltale sound of the key in the lock, and I shrieked in terror. I threw myself off of my bed and ran to the adjoining bathroom, locking the door behind me and pacing back and forth in a panic.

'_Why did I let Riku come over?' _I thought angrily to myself. '_Why am I so stupid and worthless? I __**knew **__I would get in trouble . . . Why did I do it?'_

I heard my stepfather coming into my room, and I burst out into a fresh wave of tears. Why was this happening? Why couldn't I have a normal life, like Roxas or Kairi? This was why I couldn't talk to them anymore—I had fucked up so much with my mistakes and worthlessness. My jealousies and envy at their perfect lives had overcome me and caused me to pull away from them. I had brought all of this upon myself.

I deserved my punishment.

I sunk to my knees on the floor, hugging myself and sobbing uncontrollably. I was so scared and yet I was no stranger to this. I had stopped counting how many times my stepfather had raped me since the first time, but every time he did it felt like the first time all over again. It was like constantly reliving your worst nightmare over and over and over until your screams grow hoarse, and nobody is there to save you. You're all alone, and there's nothing that you can do to get away.

I hadn't realized that I was digging my nails into the barely-healed cuts on my other arm until I saw the droplets of red blood staining the linoleum floor. I gasped as the pain washed over me, reminding me of my place on this Earth.

The bathroom door flew open, having been kicked by my stepfather, and I had no time to think. In the next second, he had me on my back on the bathroom floor. I was kicking and pounding my fists against his chest in numerous futile attempts to get him off of me but honestly, I didn't even know why I fought anymore. It was obvious that I would never win against him. Even if I managed to get away from him initially, he would just chase me down and hurt me even worse. I was much smaller and weaker than him, and my lack of nutrition only added to that fact. I felt like a helpless child stuck on top of a jungle gym, crying for someone to come and get me down.

As his lips explored every inch of my body, filling me with revulsion and disgust, a familiar face popped up into my head_. Roxas._ I remembered the connection we had once had with music, before all of this. My stepfather had taken that away from me. He had made it nearly impossible for me to be around the boy who had just begun to show me I mattered. It filled me with such intense anger that as my stepfather moved to kiss me right on the lips, I bit down so hard on his bottom lip that I tasted his metallic blood. He roared in pain and shot back away from me, giving me time to attempt a getaway. I kicked off my jeans the rest of the way to free my feet and scrambled back out into my bedroom. I was almost to the door when I felt a blinding pain in the back of my head.

My stepfather dragged me backward by the hair and looked me in the eyes with rage burning like a forest fire within them.

I had only made things worse.

He pushed me down onto my face on the carpet and fell to his knees, grabbing my ankles as I tried to crawl away. He pulled me back toward him, causing me to scrape my chin against the carpet. I cried out in pain and fear. My white underwear were ripped by him as easily as if they were made of mere paper, exposing my bare bottom to the chill night air. He clambered on top of me and placed one hand on the back of my head to hold it down. My sobs became muffled by the carpet as I heard him unbuckling his jeans. He was muttering strange things—reasons for why he had to punish me, how pretty I was, how much of my mother he saw in me—but all of that fell upon deaf ears. For in the face of fear, you can hear nothing but the sound of your own beating heart, ticking away the hours of darkness like a clock of tragedy.

Nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.

As he pushed himself into a place I never hoped he would have the gall to enter, I opened my mouth to scream. I had never felt such agony in my entire life—it took my very breath away. I felt his clammy palm cover my mouth, stifling my cries, and I kicked my legs in protest. It hurt. It hurt so bad that when he took his hand away from my mouth to prop himself up as he thrust in and out, I found myself crying out for my mother. I clawed at the carpet, as if it could provide an anchor against the storm of anguish that roiled within my body. I felt the skin tearing, the blood dripping down the back of my legs, my stepfather's nails digging into my hips.

It was all so disgusting, but I was the most repulsive of all.

"You're so beautiful, Mi Na," he huskily whispered in Korean, calling me by my mother's name. Was it because he was so drunk that he truly didn't know it was me? Or was there another reason? "My beautiful wife, Mi Na . . ."

He left me a weak, sobbing, convulsing mess on the floor and didn't even bother to shut my bedroom door behind him. I was in so much pain that I couldn't even get up and go to the bathroom to clean myself. Su Jin wasn't even allowed to come and help me, lest she wanted to lose her job in our household.

I was completely and utterly alone.

I cried for at least another half-hour, pleading aloud with God to take the anguish and grief away and bring me to my mother. Afterward, I attempted the painfully slow, agonizing crawl to the bathroom. I had to get into the shower. I was in so much pain . . . Why? Why had this happened? Why had he taken me _there_? Of all places to put himself inside of me, why _there_?

Eventually, I made it to the bathroom and reached up to grab the edge of the bathroom counter. I dragged myself to my feet, my legs shaking violently as the pain swelled to a crescendo. I whimpered, almost toppling over again, but managed to catch myself before doing so. A few minutes later, I was on the floor in the shower, scalding hot water cascading over my flesh. Every part of my body hurt, though not as much as my heart ached.

I just wanted my mother back.

x-x-x

**A/N: There it was. Short chapter, but some plot development so. Anyway, see you next time!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I encourage anyone suffering from any of the difficult topics I tackle in this story to seek outside help, even if it is just telling someone that you are sad. Depression, cutting, eating disorders, sexual abuse, rape, drug addiction, and physical abuse are all things that are not your fault, and nobody deserves to feel the pain that those things bring. I have struggled with Bulimia for four years, and the best thing I ever did was come to terms with the fact that it is a mental illness that I cannot control and will never go away—but now I have people I can go to and talk about it. The only person who can save you . . . Is you. Don't wait until you're on your knees in front of the toilet with your stomach ruptured, or your wrists laid open in the bathtub. Do not wait until your boyfriend or husband or girlfriend has beat you to death, and absolutely do NOT wait until your abuser sodomizes you, or worse. Always remember the greatest lesson that Kingdom Hearts has ever taught me:**

_**There is a light in your heart that never goes out**_**. It is fueled by you, and no matter how hard the darkness tries to consume you, that flame will continue to burn and protect you from completely losing yourself. Don't allow the darkness to take you—fight back with all of your might. Fight because you deserve to have happiness and joy and life. Fight back for you, because you are beautiful and valuable, and nobody can tell you different but you.**

**And for those of you who are religious like me: If God is for you, then who can stand against you?**

**Enjoy. :)**

**Chapter Nine - Changes**

_Xion's POV_

"I'm seriously so glad you joined the band. You think we might someday make it big?"

I blinked and glanced up from my phone. A text message from Roxas seemed to scream up at me, begging me to reply (of which I had no intention of doing). A week had passed since my stepfather had sodomized me and while my mind was still reeling from the depravity of it, I was forcing myself to push past it and hang out with my new friends as much as possible. Tifa was currently sitting across from me on her bed, smoke floating lazily up into the air from the cigarette she held in her right hand. Her black hair, possibly darker than mine, was loose about her shoulders and she wore nothing but a tank top and a pair of lacy red underwear. I'd come to realize that Tifa was like that—lazy and unnecessarily sexual at times.

"Maybe," I replied, chewing nervously on my bottom lip. Riku and I had managed to put together a pretty good song and so far the lyrics matched up with the music the rest of the band had come up with. In my opinion, the only thing we lacked was the emotions usually associated with music. Every time we played, it was clear to see that only Riku and I had passion for our creation. To everyone else—Rikku, Tidus, Payne, and Tifa—it was just a fun side project. Sometimes, Riku and I felt as if we were leading a bunch of children around on the playground, playing Follow the Leader. It was frustrating, but we were managing to cope. Despite all this, we _were _making progress and I believed that the more we played together, the closer we would all become. Eventually our band would connect on a spiritual and music level.

You might be wondering when Riku and I had become "we." To that question, I honestly have no answer. The day that Tifa had forced us to go into her bedroom and write the song, Riku and I had worked really well together. It wasn't hard for the two of us to come together and amiably re-write his song into something less horrific, more emotional, and deep. We seemed to know what the other was thinking before we said it, and I hadn't felt any desire to hold back. I poured my heart into the song with no qualms or worries about Riku's judgment, though I had not told him about where the painful emotions were coming from—about my mother's death and my father's abuse. Riku had also not asked me. Instead, he had just placed his hand on top of mine and told me that he was there for me.

I had looked at him then, surprised at his forwardness. What did he mean by that? I was glad that he was respecting me—I had no intentions of telling anyone about my past or my home life—but I was also taken aback. I had opened my mouth to speak, but the look in his smoldering aquamarine eyes had stopped me dead in my tracks.

_"Riku, I—"_

_ "Shh," Riku said, squeezing my hand beneath his own. I dropped my pencil onto Tifa's desk and unconsciously shrunk away from him. Something about the look in his eyes . . . It was frightening, but not in a way as to utterly terrify me. Rather, it was a look that made me feel completely naked. He could see through to my heart just by gazing into my eyes and I was trapped. Never before had I felt so attracted and caught in another's grasp. Even the musical connection that I had once experienced with Roxas could not compare to this._

_ The much larger, muscular teen leaned closer, his lips mere centimeters from mine. Much to my surprise, I found that I didn't want to push him back. I didn't know this guy left from right. I didn't know if he was capable of hurting me, but I honestly didn't care about anything at that point. Not even myself. Nobody else cared about me or what I did, so why should I? My stepfather had introduced that fact when he'd first started molesting me, and proven it when he'd raped me on the floor right in front of the front door._

_ Throwing caution to the wind, I closed the distance between us myself and allowed my emotions to shut down. If I closed my mind off and let my body take over, it would give me the control I so desired. I was kissing this boy by __**my **__choice—not anyone else's. That was something my stepfather could never take from me._

_ Riku instantly responded with fervor, sliding his hands up into my hair as if to hold my head in place. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, his obvious lust causing my lips to fall open in a sigh. Our tongues danced a dark yet magical dance of ingenuity and curiosity. We had no desire to get to know each other with words just yet—all that was between us was an unexplored attraction that craved satisfaction. I felt one of his hands slide down to the small of my back, his fingers clutching tightly at the fabric of my top, making me feel wanted. _

_ Once, I had dared to dream of being wanted by Roxas. Now, he was void from my thoughts. It was useless to wish for that which could never be, anyway. It only set you up for sadness and failure._

Tifa snapped her fingers in front of me multiple times to help jolt me out of my reverie. When I came to, the look on her face made me blush. Had she known what I was thinking about?

"Xi, who are you texting?" she asked suspiciously. "Riku?!" She made a lunge toward me that caught me off guard, snatching my cell phone from me. I quickly tried to grab it back and we both laughed.

"Roxas texted me," I told her as her eyes fell to the screen. I plopped down next to her and laid my head on her shoulder. We hadn't been friends for long, but already I felt closeness with her that I had felt with no one else. To me, Tifa represented freedom and independence and I admired her attitude and outlook on life. I longed to be like her, and each day that was becoming more and more so.

"He did?" she said, casually passing her half-smoked cigarette to me.

I took it and inhaled, coughing a little bit but relishing in the soothing feeling it gave me. I had just started smoking recently—the day I had first met the band members, to be exact. It had been a rash yet conscious decision born out of my deep-rooted desire to do whatever I wanted and gain some form of control over my life. Not to mention, the rumors about cigarettes de-stressing and curbing your appetite had been true. Tifa had given me the rest of her pack that day and I was gradually smoking more and more the more I came to depend on them to relieve my stress and keep me from eating.

"Mm," I nodded to her. "He and Kairi will not to leave me alone."

Tifa chuckled, as she usually did when my English grammar was bad, and she shot me a look.

"He totally likes you, that's why," she muttered. She scrolled through my conversation with Roxas on my phone, her brow furrowing as she read.

"Didn't you used to like him?" I asked after a time.

Her eyes snapped to mine and her finger on my phone ceased scrolling. "A long fucking time ago," she said firmly. "Why?"

"No reason," I said, yawning and laying my head on one of her pillows. I knew better than to fall asleep though. My stepfather didn't allow me to sleep over at anybody's house. Seeing as it was a Tuesday night and we had school in the morning, I definitely wouldn't be sleeping over. I barely paid attention to the iciness in Tifa's clipped tone, my eyelids feeling quite heavy.

"You should keep on ignoring them," Tifa said matter-of-factly about Kairi and Roxas. "They don't understand you like I do, anyway. And Riku really likes you, so you should keep hanging out with him."

I rolled over and looked up at her. "Yeah?"

She smirked. "Yeah, dude. Everyone knows you guys have a thing now, ever since you wrote the song together."

"Whatever," was all I said, rolling back onto my side. "And I cannot keep ignoring Roxas forever, at least. We have to make sure our performance for Winter concert is perfect. Mrs. Waldemeier counts on us."

Tifa scowled. "You're still doing that? Dude, you should quit Choir and focus on the band."

"No, thank you," I said sleepily. "I like both."

Tifa was silent for a long second before she said in an accusing voice, "You're just staying in Choir because _Roxas _is in Choir, too."

Swiftly, I grabbed the pillow out from under my head, sat up, and smacked her playfully with it.

"Am not," I challenged. "I like to sing, is the reason. Roxas, he is not part of the reason."

Tifa merely handed me my phone back. "I don't know, Xi. Who cares? Just . . . Don't forget about the band, okay? We're playing a show soon."

"A show?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yep. At this place where all the kids from Central High go—an eighteen-and-under nightclub. We're playing the night before Halloween and then on Halloween night, we're playing at Namine Lightle's house party."

My eyes widened in stages. I was pretty damn sure being in Namine's house was enough to warrant me being murdered. She hated me still. Even though I hadn't been hanging out with Roxas, she and her friends still made it clear that I was unwelcome in their thoughts. They glared at me in the lunchroom, hurled insults in the halls, and sometimes even shoved me around outside the school building. It was strange that they never got caught bullying me, but I was so used to being abused that I hadn't even bothered telling a teacher or administrative employee. It would probably only make things worse for me, especially if nobody believed me and everyone took the angelic-looking blonde's side.

"You don't look too pleased," Tifa said, snatching back the cigarette from me and taking the last drag before putting it in the ash tray by her bed. Her red lips curved up into a smile.

"Namine really does not like me," I said with a grimace. "At _all_."

"Welcome to the club, honey," Tifa laughed. "Namine hates any girl who comes into contact with Roxas. She's still hung up on him, and she'd do anything to get him back."

"But he does not like her," I protested, remembering things Kairi had told me.

"That doesn't mean shit to that bitch," Tifa scoffed. "She gets whatever she wants, whenever she wants. Her brother sees to that."

"Her brother?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah," she answered. "Rumor has it he's part of some huge gang that's really scary and tough. Nobody messes with any of the members because supposedly people die when they're involved."

My eyebrows shot up and my mind raced. Hadn't my encounter with the men with the guns outside Roxas's house had something to do with owing money or some sort of gang-like activity? Could it be that the two men had been members of the very gang Tifa spoke of?

Could one of them know Namine and be messing with Roxas under her bidding?

Worriedly, I looked at the text Roxas had sent me.

**Can I please call you? I really need to talk to you.**

How could I let him call me? What could I say to him? It had been nearly a month since I'd completely ceased communicating with him and with Kairi. Why was he still trying so hard to talk to me? Didn't he know it was impossible? Didn't he know I wasn't worth his time?

Part of me wondered if I had kissed Riku as a way of proving to myself that I didn't like Roxas. I don't know why I felt such a burning need to prove that I had no feelings for him, though. Perhaps it was because I was so scared of him rejecting or hurting me that I was sabotaging myself. Or perhaps it was because my stepfather had stolen my ability to give my heart away to those I truly cared about.

My phone buzzed as someone sent me another text.

**Can I please see you? Been thinkin' 'bout you since lunch yesterday.**

My heart skipped a beat. It was Riku. He was referring to the fact that he'd started driving clear over from Central High to our school to eat lunch with Tifa and I. If that didn't show that he was interested in me, then I didn't know what did. I didn't know if I should hang out with him or not.

I never got a chance to decide, either, because next thing I knew, my phone was buzzing again. It was Roxas this time.

**Can I see you?**

I almost fainted out of pure confusion. Now _Roxas _wanted to see me? Honestly, this was ridiculously stressful. My heart was telling me to go see Roxas, but my mind was telling me to go see Riku. Seeing Roxas would probably bring me more questions and worries, especially since he was going to want to know why the Hell I'd been ignoring them. Seeing Riku would probably result in us kissing again, not that I was opposed to that.

"Popular, aren't you?" Tifa said absentmindedly, busy tapping away at a text message on her phone. She was most likely texting the boy from Central that she was constantly sleeping with, Zack. All she ever did was talk about him and have sex with him and talk about him some more, but she refused to date him, stating that she liked appearing single. Tifa could be so confusing sometimes but she was quickly becoming a close friend, so I didn't question her choices.

"Roxas _and _Riku both want to see me," I told her with a deep frown.

She gasped and lowered her phone to stare at me in shock. "Really?! Right now?!"

I nodded. "Who should I pick?"

"Riku, obviously," she said quickly, her eyes sliding back to her phone. "He probably wants to fuck. You need to get some, anyway. You're still way uptight."

I flushed bright red—Tifa was probably right. Riku probably wanted to mess around or have sex or make out or something. Why else would he be asking to see me at eight-o-clock at night? But I didn't want to sleep with him. I didn't want to sleep with _anyone_, especially not when I was being forced to have sex with my stepfather two to three times a week. Even though seeing Roxas would bring me the most stress emotionally, it was the choice I was going to have to make if I wanted to postpone returning home to my sex-crazed, rage-filled stepfather. He hated me and he made it known as often as he could. Whether it be beating his hatred into me, or telling me verbally, he made it known.

"I think I will go to see Roxas," I decided aloud.

"What the _fuck_, seriously?" Tifa glowered at me. "You're gonna pass up an opportunity with Riku to go see _Roxas_?"

"I guess," I said, somewhat bemused by Tifa's genuine anger. "Why does it matter? I will see Riku tomorrow at lunch."

"Yeah, but, you haven't talked to Roxas for so long . . ." I saw her clench her teeth and force a concerned look. "What if he gets mad and freaks out on you, or something? He's notorious around town for his temper."

I frowned. "I do not think Roxas would hurt me," I said to her. Why was she so adamant that I not speak to him? After all, she had said she didn't have a crush on him anymore. I wasn't going to see Roxas to kiss him or anything. I just wanted to know what he wanted.

"Yeah, but you don't know that," Tifa protested. "I don't trust him."

I got up. "Yes, well I trust him," I said, though I knew it was somewhat of a lie. I didn't truly trust anybody. "I will go to see him, and I will text you if bad happens, okay?"

She bit down on her bottom lip so hard, I could see the skin turning pale from where I stood. She was obviously struggling not to burst out in anger.

"Fine," she said. "But don't leave Riku hanging, all right? He's the most popular guy at Central and he could have any girl he wanted. If he's picked you, you should consider yourself lucky."

I leaned forward and poked her in the stomach. "Let me take your cigarettes," I said. "I may need them."

Her face finally relaxed into a grin. "Yeah, you're probably right." She reached over to her bedside table and took an unopened pack from the top drawer. She tossed them to me and I caught them.

"Thank you," I said gratefully.

"Take the whole thing," she said, yawning and waving a dismissive hand. "I can get Zack to buy me another one. Upsides to fucking an eighteen-year-old."

I shook my head. Tifa was quite the character. I said goodbye, turned, and left the room. I stole her combat boots along the way because I really liked them. They made me feel tough and safe—nobody would mess with me if I was wearing combat boots.

That was probably inaccurate, but who cares?

I texted Roxas back quickly, asking him where to meet and telling him that I was at Tifa's. He texted me an address, I GPSed it, and saw that it was only a block away. I headed out toward it, regretting not bringing a coat with me. I was clad only in a black tank top and a pair of high-waisted ripped jean shorts with the pack of cigarettes that Tifa had given me pushed into the front left pocket. Not exactly clothes for a chilly October night. Then again, I hadn't planned upon leaving the house, now had I?

When I got to the address, I saw that it was not a regular address, but an elementary school that looked well-kept and somewhat wealthy. It was a rather large building and off to the right I could see an expanse of lush green grass and a playground with quite a few play structures. Above me, no stars shone but the quarter moon smiled down brightly. As I neared the school, I could see only one car in the parking lot: Roxas' silver Mazda 3, of which he was leaning up against. He was wearing a maroon hoodie with white drawstrings and a white-lined zipper, black skinny jeans with a wide brown belt showing, and a slouchy black beanie on the back of his head, leaving his bangs to fall in his eyes. He was obviously lost in thought, staring at the ground as he absentmindedly played with his lip rings.

I gulped. This would be the first time Roxas and I had spoken in more than a week and a half. I hadn't answered any of his calls or texts, hadn't responded to him in the hallways, had avoided him at lunch . . . What was he going to say to me? Would he even bring it up? What was _I _going to say to _him_?

I slowed to a stop in front of him, my arms folded across my chest as if the frail limbs could shelter me from the cold. I hadn't eaten all day, of course, and hadn't touched meat (which gives you iron) in weeks—it was much colder for me than for him, I bet.

"Hi," I said quietly, keeping my eyes lowered. I spoke in Korean so he knew that I wanted to speak in our native tongue the whole night.

His cornflower blue irises bored holes into my face. "Hey," he said in a tone just as muted. He, too, had his arms crossed. "What's up?"

"Nothing," I responded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "What . . . What did you want to talk about?"

He merely stayed quiet, just peering at me as if trying to figure something out, then jerked his head toward the playground.

"Let's head over there," he said, turning and walking off without explanation.

I followed him, hugging myself tightly and watching the back of his head. I could see his stretched ears from behind: they had to be nearly an inch-and-a-half big. I wondered at his patience and dedication to stretch his lobes to that point. Could that same patience and dedication be the reason why he hadn't given up on trying to get me to talk to him?

He turned and walked backward, smiling gently at me.

"This was my old elementary school," he told me. "I had some good times here."

I fell in step beside him. "Good times?"

He nodded. "Yup. Me and my friends were troublemakers. We liked to fuck with the teachers and shit. Got in trouble a lot. But it was hella fun."

We ambled up to the swings and I sat down on one. The rubber material was cold against the backs of my thighs but I paid it no heed. I curled my fists around the chains that held the seat up and simply looked at Roxas.

The blonde leaned up against the frame of the metal swingset, resting his head against it.

"What's going on, Xi?" he murmured, his hands in the front pockets of his skinny jeans. "You disappeared on us."

"Nothing," was all I said.

I jumped in surprise as he suddenly reached forward and grabbed for my arm. I nearly panicked, as I thought he was going for the arm that had my cuts and scars on it, but luckily he was going for the unmarred arm.

Unmarred save for the bruises from my stepfather.

"These aren't the only bruises on your body, are they?" Roxas demanded in a hushed voice. "What's going _on_?"

I hurriedly snatched my arm back, cradling it to me as if it were broken or sprained. Why was he all-of-a-sudden asking me a question like that? Didn't he know I couldn't just _tell _him something like that? I couldn't tell anybody about my home life. Nobody could _ever_ know. The shame I would feel . . . Roxas didn't understand.

"I'm not . . . I can't . . ." My face screwed up into a weird expression as I struggled to keep myself from crying. I had cried so often over the phone to him in the past . . . I didn't want him to witness my weakness in the flesh.

Roxas took a step closer to me. "It's okay," he said slowly, with care in his voice. "You can tell me, Xi. I'm still here for you."

At his words, my hands began to shake. No he wasn't. Nobody was there for me. Nobody wanted me. Nobody truly cared about me. I didn't want to hear his lies.

"I'm not . . . Good enough," I said, looking up at him with widened azure eyes. I hoped he could look into my eyes and see—see so I could stop hiding things if only for a moment.

Roxas looked unbearably sad for a second before the concern returned to his face. "Not good enough? Good enough for what?"

Suddenly feeling completely stifled, I rose to my feet and walked away a few yards. I pulled the cigarette pack out of my pocket and ripped it open. My hands were still shaking and I almost dropped the entire carton onto the rocks on the ground. I grabbed the lighter I always had with me from my other pocket, placed a cigarette in my mouth, and lit it.

Roxas came to stand beside me, watching curiously as I inhaled and held the cigarette a few inches or so away from my face. I gazed off across the field of grass, at the trees that lined the edge of the school campus.

"I don't want to talk about anything," I said quietly, taking another drag.

"When did you start smoking?" he shot back.

"When I couldn't handle it anymore," I quipped, looking directly up into his eyes.

He narrowed his gaze. "It? What is 'it'?"

"You don't know me," I mumbled, turning away from him. "Why should I tell you?"

Roxas sighed heavily and to my surprise, grabbed my shoulders and forced me to turn and face him. His eyes searched mine as he took the cigarette from me. I watched as he put it in his mouth. The burning end flared as he inhaled.

"I don't need to know you," Roxas replied after we had stood looking at each other in complete silence for a while. He took another drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke to the right of me. "And I'll tell you why."

Immediately, I took a step back. Why was it so easy for me to trust Riku, but so hard for me to let Roxas in? I didn't want Roxas to want to know me. I didn't want Kairi or Tifa to want to know me. I didn't want _anyone_ to want to know me. My stepfather used me as a plaything—I was worthless, and that was final. So why did Roxas suddenly see past that, to the person underneath?

Was there even a person left?

I grabbed the cigarette from him and in a most Tifa-like move, I leaned up close to him.

"We can't always have all the things that we want most, Roxas," I hissed into his ear, my lips grazing the flesh of his lobes. I felt a chill go down my spine. Why was I being so bold? To get that close to him, to use such understated sexual tactics to get my point across . . . When had that become part of my nature? When I stepped back, his eyes were blazing.

The same look that had been in his eyes during our musical connection at his house was in his eyes right this very second.

It scared me.

Without thinking, I dropped the cigarette in the rocks and dashed off toward a nearby play structure: one that had multiple things to do upon it, like a slide, ladders, wooden tunnels, and poles to glide down. I stopped at the front of the climbing wall, whipped around, and Roxas was there. He slammed his hands palms-flat against the wall, boxing me in. The cigarette was still in his hand, poised between his fore and middle fingers. We were both breathing heavily and I briefly wondered what was going on. Why had I run away? Why had he chased me? Why was he doing this now, looking at me with such intensity that it was terrifying?

"R-Roxas . . ." I whimpered as his head loomed closer. I turned my head and shrunk as far back against the wall as I could, as if I could melt into it and get away. I could feel his breath, hot and sweet against my neck. "Please . . ."

"Please what?" he murmured into my ear, much the same way I had murmured into his. I couldn't stop a gasp from escaping my lips as his lips brushed the patch of skin beneath my ear, sending an electric spike of desire to the pit of my stomach. He needed to get back. This was too much for me—too overwhelming. I placed my shaking hands flat against his chest, applying slight pressure to show him that I wanted him to move away. He dropped the cigarette and ground it out beneath the heel of his all-black lace-up Vans, chuckling kind-of darkly.

"Y-You . . . You—_ah_—you're . . . _Oh_~! Please, R-Roxas, you're sc-scaring me!" I managed to gasp out my pleas as I felt him nuzzling his face into the crook between my neck and shoulder, lightly pressing gentle kisses to the flesh. I could feel the heat of him against me and instead of Roxas, I saw my stepfather before me. I imagined all the horrible things that had been done to my body; what other horrors had yet to be done. Why had I kissed Riku so easily? Why was I so torn between pulling Roxas closer and pushing him away from me?

_What was wrong with me?_

"I don't need to know you, _dongsaeng_," he said hoarsely after taking his mouth off of my skin, his voice muffled by my silken ebony hair. "I don't need to know you because I already _do_."

I inhaled sharply, and he pulled back to look in my eyes.

"Wh-What . . . ?" I breathed.

One of his hands slid down to lightly caress the edge of my cheekbone. His eyes lowered to my lips, which he studied with great interest.

"The second I met you, you became valuable to me," he whispered, his eyelashes dusting his skin as he closed his eyes. "And the second you opened your mouth to sing, I felt a connection to you that I've never experienced. And that's why it hurts that you won't talk to me—I _miss_ you."

Tears were brimming at the corners of my vision. Why was he saying all these things? _Why was he saying all these things? _They couldn't be true . . . They _couldn't_ . . . How could one person find value in me when no one else did? If I was so valuable, then why did my stepfather nullify that value every night when he put his fingers inside of me? When he put his _manhood _inside of his daughter's _body_?

I couldn't hold back anymore. I started to sob uncontrollably and if it weren't for Roxas holding me, I would have collapsed. He didn't say anything while I cried; just held me tighter and tighter the more intense my tears became. The pain overwhelmed me—the pain of everything, all balled up into one. I could hardly stand it anymore. I missed my mother. I wanted my innocence back. I was tired of the fear, and the anguish. The grief. The spiritual suffering.

I just wanted everything to go back to normal.

"_Oppa, mianhae_," I sobbed. "_Mianhae_."

"Shh, shh, shh," Roxas murmured, reaching up to stroke my hair.

Instantly, I shoved him away, my eyes wild with tears and fear. Roxas looked bewildered and incredibly worried, but I shook my head when he tried to come back to me.

In the beginning, my stepfather had stroked my hair before, during, and after his nightly visitations. It was his way of silently apologizing for the unspeakable acts he was committing. But then the hair stroking became hair pulling. The apologies became insults hurled. He saw my mother in me and he hated me for it. He wanted me to suffer for it, and suffer he made me. There would be no reprieve. He made sure of that.

"N-No . . ." I whispered, still crying. "Please take me home. I have to go home."

Without waiting for his reply, I started off toward his car, lighting yet another cigarette along the way. Tears coursed down my cheeks as I smoked, crystalline jewels encasing my sadness carving paths of despair upon my face. I mentally cursed myself. I had let my guard down again—why? I had done exactly the opposite of what I had wanted to do, and now Roxas had seen my weakness. This had all been a mistake, coming out to see him. I should have just gone to see Riku. Riku wouldn't ask questions and try to get to the bottom of all my pain. I didn't _want _anyone to get to the bottom of it. I didn't deserve help, so I wasn't going to accept it.

I got into Roxas's car seconds before he did and rolled the window down as soon as he turned on the ignition.

"Xion," he started after our seatbelts were on, his hands resting lightly on the bottom of the steering wheel.

"Take me home," I said firmly, almost angrily.

"I'm your friend, Xion," Roxas said just as firmly. "And so is Kairi. We just want to help—"

"_Take me home_!" I shouted suddenly, my hands beginning to shake again. "_Now_!"

Roxas stared at me, floored. He had never seen me yell like that and frankly, it had been a long time since I'd had such an outburst. I turned my face toward the window and watched the smoke of my cigarette escaping out the window. Without another word, Roxas pulled out of the parking spot he had chosen and zoomed off toward the road.

Roxas didn't know the real me, despite what he may think, and he wasn't ever going to.

x-x-x

_Roxas's POV_

My friendship with Xion became obsolete over the next week. She went right back to ignoring my calls and texts and soon enough, she was holding hands with that silver-haired guy. He came to eat lunch with her and Tifa every single day at school. As the days went by, they became more and more attached at the hip. I had even seen him kiss her forehead, which made me wonder if they had ever actually kissed on the lips. Of course, that also made me wonder if they had sex on occasion, often, or at all. Kairi was more concerned with the fact that Xion was now "besties" with Tifa than the fact that she had a new boyfriend. Then again, Kairi had no idea that I had a crush on Xion.

Although, after what had happened that night at the elementary school playground, I wasn't so sure it was just a mere crush for me. Those things I had said to Xion hadn't been practiced, pre-meditated, or even thought out. They had just spilled out and they were true. She _was _valuable to me. I cared about her and I wanted nothing more than to have her back, hanging out with Kairi and I again. I wanted to protect her, so seeing the bruises on her body only made me _more _worried about her. And now she was a completely different person, smoking and dressing like Tifa with revealing clothes and her perfect lips stained red. She was starting to look darker and even more mysterious than she had been when I'd first seen her.

"This sucks," Kairi sighed at lunch the Monday after the night I had met with Xion at the school. She placed her elbows on the lunch table and rested her chin in her hands. She pouted and looked up at me through her lashes.

"What do you want?" I asked, reluctantly tearing my eyes off of where I saw Xion, Tifa, and Xion's new boyfriend—or whatever he was—sitting. They were laughing and talking animatedly, that much could be seen, and the silver-haired guy kept putting his hands on Xion: on her back, in her hair, her shoulder, her leg. They were obviously together and it was eating away at me.

"Just let me go over and confront her. Pleeeeease?"

"No way, dude!" I exclaimed. "For the last time, it's not a good idea. Jesus fuck, Kai, just let it be! She's done. She's over it with us. Time to move on."

Kairi scowled and rolled her eyes. "Poo. You're no fun," she whined. "I just wish she would at least answer my text messages."

I opened my mouth to tell Kairi that talking to her at all would be bad, seeing as how my talk with her was unsuccessful, but I stopped myself. I didn't want Kairi to know what had happened between Xion and I. For some reason, I didn't want her to know I had feelings for Xion at all. I don't know why, but I didn't want anyone to know. Not even Sora.

Kairi and I got up and headed out of the cafeteria, Kairi glaring over at Tifa along the way, and we went out into the hallway.

"So how are you and Sora?" I asked, slipping my hands into my pockets. Truthfully, I didn't much care to hear her answer; my mind was totally preoccupied with my meeting with Xion the night before. After her erratic behavior, seeing her smoking, having her cry in my arms, then screaming at me to take her home . . . I was pretty sure something wasn't quite right with her. _Something _was going on at home. I didn't know what it was, but the bruises on the visible places on her body weren't hard to see. I was starting to feel sick with worry.

The redhead sighed and ran her hands through her hair, mussing up the careful curls she must have crafted in it that morning. "We're fine, I guess. He's just been really weird lately."

"Weird?" I said absentmindedly, staring down at the screen of my phone. I was looking at the text conversation between Xion and I, looking at how it had changed. We used to talk back and forth, almost flirting what with the way we joked with one another. Now we didn't text at all. She never replied, no matter what I said to her. Even if I tried to get her to meet up with me to work on our song for the Winter Choir concert, she ignored me.

"Yeah," Kairi gushed. "He's so paranoid about the weirdest things, dude. Like the other day, we were driving down the road and pulled up into the Burger King drive-thru. He looked in his rearview and saw some guy walking up to our car, so he panicked and like, blew out of the restaurant parking lot at top speed. It was fucking ridiculous! Like, what are you doing? Anyway, he parked and was breathing like he was really scared. And like, I turned and looked back at the drive-thru. Whoever the guy was, he was just some random guy who had obviously gone through the line before, because he bent down by the food window to pick up a wallet!"

"Really," I said, putting my phone away and staring ahead of me down the hall.

"Yeah, dude!" Kairi threw her hands up into the air. "I freaked out on him. Like, what the fuck? I wanted my damn chicken tenders."

I couldn't help but laugh. Kairi could be so comical sometimes.

"What did Sora do?" I asked, knowing that Sora wasn't really one to fight or argue.

"He just ignored me and drove us all the way home. I was so pissed, but then we did the do, so it was okay."

"Aww, Kairi," I grumbled, shoving her away lightly. "I don't need to know what you and my cousin 'do'."

She grinned wolfishly and shrugged. "Whatever. Anyway . . . Let's talk about Xion."

"Oh, God." I rolled my eyes. "Look, Kai, can we just drop it? I don't really want to talk about that."

She stopped walking and put her hands onto her hips, turning to glare at me. "And when do you propose we talk about it, Roxas? Jeez, she was your friend, too. Aren't you even the least bit angry that she ditched us for _Tifa_?"

I shrugged and tossed my head to get my bangs out of my eyes. "I'm indifferent," I lied.

She raised one eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? Indifferent? I don't think so. I see you glaring at whoever that silver-haired guy is whenever he shows up here for lunch with her. I _know _you, Roxas. You aren't happy about this, either."

I scowled, "Well what the fuck do you want _me _to do? I can't fucking fix everything for everybody! I'm barely keeping it together for myself as it is!"

Kairi took a step back, eyes wide in shock. "Excuse me? I didn't _ask _you to fix anything. I just want you to be more . . . _N__ot _indifferent to the situation, or whatever."

"Well, how about you quit whining about it and go talk to Xion yourself? Leave me the fuck out of it." Without a second glance, I turned on my foot and walked away. I loved Kairi, but she could be so back and forth sometimes. She wanted to be friends with Xion again but she didn't want to do it herself. She wanted me to talk to Xion for her, or to go with her to confront Xion and do all of the talking. I was already overwhelmed with things with the gang and from the freak out Kairi had said he'd had, so was Sora. And I _did _want to be friends with Xion again. More than anything. But I would do it on my own terms when _I _felt like doing it, and not because Kairi wanted me to do her dirty work for her. Kairi's friendship with Xion was separate from my friendship with Xion. I knew I was probably sounding really mean, but I was dealing with so much crap in my life right now that another thing to deal with would most likely make me snap.

By default, I headed to the Library. My stomach felt a little weak today and I didn't want to be on my feet too much longer. I didn't want a repeat of what happened a month or so ago, when I'd been hospitalized. Luckily, I hadn't needed any sort of surgery, but Dr. Strife had asked me to be careful with my body so as not to exacerbate the ulcers I already had. Grimacing, I placed a hand over my stomach and paused in the hall. My other hand propped myself up against the wall of lockers to my left as my vision swam.

"Too much fucking stress . . ." I muttered irritably. I needed to do something to remove myself from all of this drama, otherwise I was going to make myself sicker. I pressed my palm against my forehead, as if I could make the headache that had sprung up cease. Around me, random stragglers heading to the lunchroom were watching me warily, like they were scared I was going to explode or something.

Eventually the pain subsided and I was able to continue on to the Library with naught but a little bit of nausea.

I was tired of this, of everything. Tired of my life. Things with my family hadn't really gotten any better, but neither had they gotten any worse. My father was lost in his work at the family restaurant all the time and my mother was strict with making sure I helped out as much as possible with the twins. Brittany was still talking to Namine on the daily, but I didn't really care about that anymore. As long as neither of them were bothering Xion, which it didn't seem like they were, I was okay. And even though Sora was paranoid about the gang finding him in random places around town such as Burger King, I hadn't heard anything from them since that day in front of my house. I was worried that something bad was going to happen, but I didn't really know how to prepare for their return. Part of me knew I should try harder to get Xion to be my friend again before they _did _return—at least then, I would be able to protect her.

Although, that silver-haired guy looked pretty beefy . . . He'd probably be able to protect her better than a sick kid like me. Sometimes I felt as if I was falling apart at the seams and my sickness was draining he remnants of our souls from my family and I. Everyone just seemed to be moving about like zombies, not allowing themselves to feel lest grief overtake them. We were all scared that at any moment, I could develop a tumor that was cancerous. We were all scared that I could die. The fear of not knowing was enough to make us cower in our own heads, living only for the sake of breathing—not for the sake of living.

Just as my dark thoughts threatened to overwhelm me, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

**Rox, I need you to do something for me.**

x-x-x

**A/N: I apologize for the first part of my author's note; I was super riled up at that guest review, smDh. Anyway, just for future reference guys, this story is a reupload, okay? I'm just editing it and posting it up again for my friends. Any new readers are most welcome, of course, but just know that the writing is not going to be as advanced or as "good" as the writing style of **_**Finding Hikari **_**because **_**FH **_**is a newer story. I hope you all are enjoying the story otherwise. Thank you!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I apologize for the previous chapter's drama. It has now been deleted from the author's note. I just want my readers to know that I do agree that the last time I had this story up, I begged for reviews alot and I shouldn't have done that. I was going through a hard time in my personal life and I took it out on my readers and for that, I apologize. Secondly, from here on out, flames/personal attacks will be ignored. I'm sorry, but I'm just a person who loves to write. I only wish to do that in peace. Again, I apologize for the previous chapter's drama, and in the future, flaming/personal attacks/trolling will be ignored. **

**For future reference for people reading this story: It's going to get pretty graphic. Progressively so. So if you can't handle it, I beg of you to choose another story. This chapter has no sexual content, however. **

**Chapter Ten - Metamorphosis**

_Xion's POV_

"Hey."

I turned around at the sound of the familiar voice, and my questioning face relaxed into a genuine smile. I hadn't smiled very much since my mother's death and so far, I had smiled more in the past couple of weeks than I ever had. Just seeing his startling aquamarine eyes boring holes into my very soul was enough to lift my spirits.

"Riku, hey!" I said, stepping close to him so he could enfold me in a warm embrace. His hands rubbed up and down my back in an intimate way and he nuzzled into my hair. He was always like this when he came to hang out with Tifa and I for lunch. He didn't care if anybody saw him with me. Whether we were in the middle of the crowded hallway or standing at the doors to the Cafeteria, he hugged me in such a way that left no room for anyone else to imagine that we weren't crushing on each other.

Although for me, it was more than a crush. Something about Riku's intense stare and sultry smile had effectively ensnared me and I wasn't displeased about it. I liked being caught in his trap, for it helped my mind to escape from the realities that made up my life; the true horrors that awaited me at home. When I was with Riku, it was easy for me to forget. He told me how beautiful I was as often as possible and texted me at night to say good night. I truly believed he really liked me and in turn, I liked him back.

"Did you have safe drive here?" I queried, lacing my fingers with his as I looked up at him with a small smile.

"Yeah," he said, leaning in close to me. "How is your day going?"

"It is good," I told him, rising up a little bit to meet his lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. This was the first time I had ever jumped into a relationship like this, if you could call it that. In Korea, I had been the type of girl to play hard to get. I rarely ever went on dates (even though I had tons of offers) and if I liked a guy, I made him chase me. My mother had always told me that a woman likes to be pursued and if a man isn't willing to pursue what he wants . . . Well, then he never deserved you in the first place. But now, after all that had happened to me, I was reeling in pain and loneliness and had latched onto Riku for the safety and security he provided. Sometimes, I felt as if I would die if I never saw him again. Strange way to feel for a guy after only two weeks of knowing him, right?

I couldn't help but think about Roxas and the connection _we _had once shared. I had liked him as well but something in my mind had convinced me I would never be good enough for him. I didn't deserve him, so I would choose the next best thing: Riku. It was selfish of me to think such things, but the other night at the elementary school with Roxas had only proven just how unattainable he actually was. I could tell he truly cared for me. It was because of my worthlessness that I had to push him away. Could he not see how bad I was for him? I was trash who was only there to be my stepfather's plaything and Roxas . . . Roxas was a brooding yet thoughtful musician with the most exquisite musical abilities. He was perfect. Imperfect me would never be clean and pure enough for him, thus causing my heart to desperately attempt to forget him.

Whenever I looked at Riku I saw safety and security and being wanted . . . But did I think Riku truly cared for me as much as Roxas cared for me? Honestly, no. But at that current time, I was in a horrible, lost state of mind. I was grieving my mother's death. My father was repeatedly raping me, beating me, and stomping out any hope I had of ever being wanted by anyone ever again. I had succeeded in pushing not only my friends in Korea away, but also my first American friend, Kairi. I couldn't be in Roxas's presence without feeling an almost physical pain at the loss he didn't even know had been experienced over him. And to top it all off, the reminder that my own birth father wanted absolutely nothing to do with me for favor of his new family . . . I had never felt more alone in my entire life.

You see, I _needed _Riku. I craved the affection, the desire, the feeling of being _wanted_. And I was terrified of the loneliness and the pain and grief and . . . All of it. I was terrified. The way Riku kissed me made me forget about everything else and not a single person could enter the world that we created. When we played together in the band and I sang the song that the two of us had written together, I sang it as if I were singing it to him. Did he know I had become this fixated on him? No. Of course not. And I would never tell him, because then he would go away.

I didn't want to be alone again.

"Hey, guys!" Tifa came walking up, wearing a simple outfit consisting of a pair of emerald green high-waisted shorts and a faded maroon crop top with short sleeves. Her thick, glossy black hair was up in her usual messy bun and she had a big grin on her face as she halted beside us.

"Hey," Riku said coolly. "You look happy."

"That's cuz I am," she said with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"And why's that?" Riku asked, smiling briefly down at me when I molded myself to his side, my arm linked through his.

"You'll never guess what Yuna just texted me to say," Tifa said.

"What did she say?" I asked, her words piqueing my curiosity.

"She snagged us time at that studio downtown! The one where some of the Rise Records artists record sometimes!" she exclaimed excitedly with a wide smile on her face.

Riku's eyebrows shot up and my smile mirrored hers. That meant that we could record our song! Which meant that if anybody with the ability to sign us to a label showed up to our performance at the nightclub the night before Halloween, we could have demo CDs to give them. _If _we could get the song perfected by then. By my standards, we still had some work to do. Especially with Tidus's sporadic drumming patterns. Seriously, the kid had to have some sort of attention deficit disorder because getting him to stick to one crazy drum solo was like trying to get a cat to play fetch. Not entirely impossible, but still pretty damn hard. Despite my apprehension at my stepfather's reaction, I predicted that the band would be meeting for practice and studio time every single day until the 31st. It was already October 21st, so we had ten days to get things into gear.

"That's fucking awesome!" Riku gushed, holding his fist up in the air and pulling it sharply downward in a triumphant motion. "When do we get to go?"

"Well, until Halloween, since we have a performance in a week-and-a-half, they're letting us go in for up to two hours a day. But after Halloween, every Tuesday and Thursday until further notice," Tifa grinned. "We have two hours in one of the studios, which Yuna said she still has to find out which room we'll be in. But yeah, turns out she's a better band manager than we thought she'd be, isn't she?"

"Yeah, dude," Riku chuckled back, slapping high fives with Tifa.

I looked from one to the other, brow furrowed in confusion. Why had they thought Yuna would be a bad manager? I'd known her for a couple weeks now and she was a fun girl to hang out with, but she was also professional and businesslike when it came to band things. She gave her honest opinions on our song, helping us as best she could to assist us in perfecting it. She made tons of calls, from what I'd seen, to countless people for different things such as coffee shops to try and secure gigs, or like in this case, where she had gotten us studio time. So why would they have ever doubted her?

I brushed it off. Tifa and Riku had probably been friends for a long time; they'd probably doubted Yuna before they had really gotten to know her. I didn't want to let my worries bring me down. Getting studio time was amazing. I had never heard what my voice sounded like recorded and to be frank, having a song physically recorded made my dreams feel more tangible.

My mother would be so proud of me for an accomplishment such as this . . .

"Let's go get some food," Tifa suggested, snapping me out of my thoughts, and we headed into the crowded Cafeteria.

x-x-x

Much to my dismay, a project was given later on in AP English class. The teacher instructed us to find a partner, pick a book, read it, and write either a report on it or a creative story about something having to do with the plot elements of the book we had chosen. Unluckily for me, this project had all the "plot elements" for a big, fat F. I could barely speak English properly, let alone read it. I was awfully shy and terrible at the whole partner thing and usually dreaded whenever a teacher announced partner projects in school. I would have almost no free time to struggle through an English novel _and _write a report or story _and _practice/record with the band every day. I had tons of homework in my other classes, especially the Hellish Trigonometry assignments I was constantly given. Need I list more?

Nevertheless, I knew that my English grade was as important a grade as any, so as soon as the teacher asked us to disperse and partner pick, I sat up straight in my chair, pushed the sides of my hair back behind my ears, and tried my best to look like I would be a good selection of partner. I refrained from the urge to look around at everyone else, lest it make me seem desperate, and waited while everyone else was picked. I supposed it was just as well, though. I wasn't wanted by anyone and I was worthless, so why would someone want to pick _me?_

After a few minutes, the teacher looked up from her desk and said, "All right, who doesn't have a partner? Raise your hands."

Of course, my hand slowly snuck up into the air while I kept my eyes down on the notebook that lay flat on my desk.

I heard the teacher sigh heavily, and then say, "All right then. Looks like you two will have to be paired up. Selphie, go sit next to Xion."

I looked up as a girl in a bright yellow sundress and black velvet pumps came clacking her way across the linoleum to my desk. She had forest green eyes and shoulder-length straight brown hair that feathered out and up a little at the ends. She had on a full face of perfectly-applied make-up and I enviously noticed how thin she was. I tried to smile at her but the icy look in her eyes stopped me cold. As I peered at her, I began to think to myself about how familiar she seemed. I felt as if I had met her before . . . Who _was _she?

I got my answer soon enough.

The teacher announced the project due date, then told us to brainstorm some book ideas with our partners. Immediately, amiable chatter broke out amongst the students, so that it was impossible to discern one conversation from the next. Selphie and I didn't join in and instead just sat in our seats, facing forward and doing nothing. Well, I was doodling in my notebook and she was tapping a text message on her cell phone screen.

After about ten minutes of this ridiculously boring experience, I noticed that everyone else was actually getting some work done. The teacher had, at one point, told us to head to the Library with our partners once we were finished brainstorming, so the room was steadily emptying out. And there we were, sitting there, doing nothing. I was a little irritated because I knew that if I failed any of my classes, my stepfather would be extremely disappointed in me and he would hurt me. There was no doubt about it: a failed class earned me a beating.

I adjusted in my seat, wishing that I hadn't worn a dress today. The combination of my nervousness and me having sat there immobile for so long was causing the backs of my thighs to stick to the plastic desk chair. I hated that. It made me feel so disgustingly fat. I bet _Selphie's _thighs weren't sticking to the seat of _her _chair. And as I glanced down at them, I was repulsed by the large width of my legs. Absolutely unacceptable. I hadn't kept anything more than a few tiny morsels and bites of food down in weeks, but I was still uncomfortably large. I still hated my body and I felt as if all this torture and pain that I was putting it through was getting me nowhere. I wasn't losing any weight. I looked as if I was swelling up even larger, like a hot air balloon, and I was going to go floating up into the sky.

'_Maybe I'll start exercising,' _I thought to myself. '_I'm so gross, I can't let myself get like this. I'll exercise tonight and whenever I can so I can lose this damn weight.'_

Then, I glanced over at Selphie, who merely scowled and kept texting.

She spoke up, "Look, bitch. I'm not happy about working with you, and I want you to know it. Everyone knows you stole Namine's solo and since Namine's my best friend, I'm on her side. I'm only working on this project with you because the teacher is forcing us. If I had it my way, I'd launch myself across this desk and slap the shit out of you. You stole Namine's solo, and then had the nerve to hang out with her man? You're just a stupid slut, and you'll never compare to Namine." She slammed her phone down onto the table and fixed me with a deadpan glare. "If you know what's good for you, you'll do the stupid project on your own, put my name on it, and pretend like I helped you."

I was shocked into silence. So _that's _where I knew Selphie from . . . She was literally _always _standing next to Namine like a faithful sidekick, but since Namine was conspicuously absent today, I had gotten stuck with Selphie as a (highly unwilling) partner. And her words to me only proved that to be true. Selphie would do anything for Namine, even if that meant beating me up. I needed to tread carefully around this girl. The look in her eyes reminded me so much of my stepfather that I had to look away.

"That's what I _thought_," she said nastily, rising to her feet and loudly announcing to the teacher that we were ready to go to the Library and get our book. The teacher nodded and began writing out our pass to go.

I felt a huge, painful knot in my throat as the two of us gathered up our things and headed up to her desk. I kept my eyes lowered, struggling not to cry. She had been so mean to me . . . So cruel . . . There was not an ounce of kindness in her tone and when she had said that she would slap me, I had believed it fully. Now, I had one more person on my list to be scared of. It just wasn't fair.

We left for the Library, but Selphie of course didn't _go _to the Library. She walked off in the complete opposite direction, obviously intending to skip the entire class period and leave me with the work, just as she had said she would. I hugged my books close to my chest and merely continued on to the Library, wondering what I had done to warrant so much hatred in my life. It seemed like everyone was either mad at me or hated me for so many different reasons that I wondered if there was even anything good about me.

I wondered if anyone would ever see me as worthy and if I would ever stop feeling the fear of being unwanted.

x-x-x

_Roxas's POV_

"Dude. I'm sorry, but no _fucking _way," I hissed angrily into my cell phone. I was standing in the far back corner of the topmost Library floor, arguing with my cousin Sora over the phone. It was the period after lunch and I had skipped it to call Sora after he had sent me the text message. Something about it hadn't felt right. I had had a feeling that it was urgent, so I had called him up only to hear the complete opposite of what I wanted to hear.

"Please . . ." His voice was hoarse and cracking. It was so unlike him . . . When he was high and craving more drugs, he became a completely different person. He wasn't the cousin I loved. He was needy and depressed and pitiful. He hurt himself and became paranoid. Back when we had been members of the gang, there were many times when he had showed up at my window in the rain, convulsing and anxious and claiming that "they were coming for him."

"Sora, _no_," I whispered back, glancing over my shoulder to ensure that a Librarian wasn't near. Cell phones weren't technically allowed in the Library, due to the disruption they usually caused. "I can't. I won't. I can't believe you're . . . Where did you get the drugs from?"

He was panting and wheezing, as if he had run for miles, even though I knew he hadn't. He was at school, in the bathroom, shooting up in a stall, and I was livid. Whoever had sold him the drugs was going to get a personal visit from me, and today.

"R-Roxas," Sora sobbed, dissolving into tears. "I'm sorry, I . . . I just couldn't take it anymore . . . I . . . I needed it. I need it. More. I need more. Please . . . If you just buy me enough to last the week, I'll never do it again."

I was so horrified at what I was hearing that I couldn't even find the words to interrupt him and tell him no again. I closed my eyes against the anguish that burned in my heart. This was my fault. If I hadn't . . . If I hadn't helped him to join the gang, then he never would have become addicted to heroin. I had thought he was better, but I . . . I was wrong. And I was terrified of what would happen to him. Would he overdose and die because of me? Was I going to lose my cousin to an addiction that I had played a part in the creation of?

"Sora," I finally said through clenched teeth. "_No_. Just let it ride through your system, and then we'll work on helping you. Together."

". . . No," he whimpered. "Roxas . . . Please, just one more dose. I'll never do it again. _Please_!"

I thought of poor Kairi and how she had no idea who Sora had been before they'd met. She had no idea he was addicted to heroin. And if she knew what he was doing now . . . What with her depression over Xion ignoring her, this would be too much for her. If she knew any of it-from the drugs to the gang activity to the arson and the murders-she would have absolutely no way of handling it. It would eclipse her and destroy her. She would be devastated.

"Sora, just stay where you are," I told him slowly. "I'm going to leave school and come drive to get you, okay? Try not to draw any attention to yourself-you can't get caught."

"Will you . . . Will you bring me more?" Sora breathed anxiously, and I knew he was scratching at his arms until they bled, like he usually did when he was tweaked out. "I pr-promise . . . I promise I won't do it again. Just _one_ more . . . _One _more d-dose . . ."

I sighed heavily. It was never good to lie to an addict, but if that addict was your cousin and best friend and the only person in your life who had been through Hell and back with you . . . Then you'd better lie your ass off to save him.

"Yes," I fibbed. "I'll bring you more."

I heard him start to cry again, and I felt sick. This was so sad. So pathetic and . . . And horrifying. I felt like I was having a flashback. This wasn't the first time I had gone from my school all the way to Central to help him out when he got high in the bathroom. And every single time that had happened, I had felt such terrible fear. I supposed it must have been the same sort of fear my family was experiencing right now. Every time I had to sit with Sora during his withdrawals and episodes, I wondered if my mother felt the same way every time she had to sit next to me and watch me sleep in a hospital bed. Did she weep for me?

Did she fear for me?

I hung up the phone and turned to rush out of the Library. The only thing I wanted to do was get to my cousin and save him from himself. Who knew what state he was truly in or if anyone else was in the bathroom. If he got caught . . . I shook the worrisome thoughts away. It wouldn't do to think about the negatives. I just needed to focus on getting him out of there and to the safety of his room, where I could care for him during the withdrawal that was sure to come. And then, when all was said and done and he was feeling better, I was going to get to the bottom of the situation.

I was going to find out who sold him the drugs, and I was going to beat the living _shit _out of him.

As I rounded the corner and saw the elevator looming far ahead of me, I heard a sound coming from down the dark aisle next to the one I had been in. I paused, something tugging at my heart and telling me this was no ordinary sound. Turning, I peered into the dimness. Someone had their knees pulled up to their chest on the floor, crying softly into their hands. Their bag lie next to them on the floor, books and things strewn about as if they had simply fallen to their knees and begun to sob. It was a girl, judging by the white lace sundress they were wearing, and she had incredibly long black hair . . .

"Xion?" I whispered hesitantly, a frown tugging down the corners of my lips.

The crying instantly halted and the girl's head snapped up. I took a surprised step back. She looked absolutely terrified and she wiped away her tears hastily, turning her face away from mine. I knew I needed to go help Sora, but . . . Xion . . . She was crying, and I had to know why. I couldn't bear to leave her there. I cared about her, and I had a feeling that she didn't cry in the middle of the school Library that often.

So I crossed the remaining distance toward her and slowly crouched down beside her, palms down on my knees. I tilted my head and looked at her through my chin-length bangs with concern.

"Xi, are you okay?" I still insisted on using the nickname Kairi and I had crafted for her. I wanted her to know I hadn't given up on her. I wanted her to know that she was still my friend.

"I'm fine," she said thickly, her tone clipped and short. She obviously had no desire to talk about it, and was thoroughly embarrassed at having been caught crying. What a radical change from the girl that had cried to me over the phone all those weeks ago, when we used to talk on the phone every single night. She had once been a nearly open book, but something had changed her and now . . . Now she was a book closed for good.

I wet my lips. "Wanna go for a ride?"

She blinked and looked at me for a long moment, as if judging me, and then finally nodded.

With a supportive grin, I rose to my feet and held out a hand to her.

"Well, then let's go."

x-x-x

_Xion's POV_

Cigarette smoke curled out the open car window and upward as we sped down the road much faster than normal. Somehow, by the rigid way Roxas was sitting and the tense silence in the car, I could tell that this was no random drive through the city. Roxas had a purpose for this drive. I didn't ask him, preferring the silence to having to find words. I still couldn't believe that _he _of all people had found me crying in the Library. Why is it that every time we were alone together, it usually ended up in a giant spike of emotions that caused anger or crying?

"Let me get some of that," Roxas said so quietly that I almost didn't hear him.

I looked at him. "Okay," I said, passing my cigarette to him.

He took a long drag and blew it out his window. Then, he handed it back to me and turned on the CD player.

"It's Chelsea Grin," he told me, turning it up so loud that I could barely hear myself think. He visibly relaxed back in his seat, as if the angry metal music soothed him. I tried not to be too obvious with my staring, but I had forgotten how attractive he was. It was almost tortuous being in his vicinity. I hated being reminded of how ugly and unnatractive I was. What did people think when they saw us together? Uncomfortably, I folded my arms over my stomach to hide it. What did Roxas think about being seen with me?

'_He's probably embarrassed . . .' _I thought miserably, my hand trembling as I brought my cigarette back up to my mouth. '_I shouldn't have come. I'm just a waste of space.'_

"Sorry I'm being so quiet, _dongsaeng," _Roxas yelled over the sound of the music, not taking his eyes off of the road. "I'm just . . . Preoccupied."

"Mm," I nodded, not really wanting to talk.

"And I'm sorry about . . . The other night . . . I guess . . ." He took one hand off of the wheel to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. "Whatever, you probably don't want to talk about it."

I lowered my head after tossing the butt of my cigarette out the window. Roxas was too good for me. He was so thoughtful, even without really trying to be.

"So, I have to make a stop," Roxas said, grimacing a little bit. "And you're probably going to be a little freaked out, but . . . I don't know. You don't have to go with me, though. I can . . ." He sighed, as if resigning himself to a decision. "I can turn around and take you back to school."

"No," I said loudly, quickly. After my ordeal with Selphie, I didn't really want to go to the rest of my classes. I would probably get detention, which would piss the other band members off since we needed to practice on Friday. However, since Tifa was always in detention, they were probably used to waiting around on Fridays. The real issue was what my stepfather would do to me when the school called and informed him that I'd skipped my last two classes.

"No?" Roxas raised one eyebrow.

"I will . . . I will go with you." I didn't know what it was that we would be doing, but whatever it was, it was going to keep me from going back to school.

We kept driving and soon came upon a quiet yet well-tended school campus. I looked out the window and saw a giant sign: Central High School. I thought of Riku and a flush came to my cheeks. What would _he _think if he knew that I was hanging out with Roxas? He probably wouldn't be too happy. I gulped.

"Okay, so . . . I'm going to go inside and when I come out, I need you to help me get my cousin Sora into the car, okay? As quickly as you can, because if anyone sees the state he's in, there's going to be some shit going down," Roxas said after pulling into an empty spot in the parking lot. He looked into my eyes, his voice completely serious, so I merely nodded in reply. I didn't know what he meant by the "state" Sora would be in, but I felt a need to help the two of them with whatever they needed help with.

Roxas gave me a small, quick smile before he slammed the car door shut and I watched him jog off into the school doors. I hoped his cousin was okay . . .

My phone vibrated in my bag, and I rushed to grab it.

**Dude, where are you . . . ? I need to talk to you.**

It was Tifa, so I quickly replied. **I skipped for the rest of the day.**

** Why?**

** I'll explain later.**

** Well . . . Where did you go?**

I debated telling the truth. Something had been telling me lately not to mention Roxas around Tifa if at all possible. She had said she didn't like him anymore, but I didn't know if that was entirely true. I also didn't want Riku to find out that I was with Roxas either, so perhaps keeping it a secret was best . . .

**Just hanging out. I will meet you at the school right when it lets out, and we can go to practice.**

** Kk, cool dude. Love you.**

** Love you, too!**

Relieved that she hadn't questioned me further, I looked back out the window in time to see Roxas with his arm around a stumbling chestnut-haired boy. The boy's head was lolling about on his shoulders, and he was stumbling forward in a lurching way. I quickly hopped out of the car and ran to meet them, allowing the boy who must have been the cousin that Roxas had come for to slip an arm around my shoulders. Together, Roxas and I helped the boy to the car and into the backseat, where he lay out with a feverish expression on his face. His arm flopped outward and I was shocked to see numerous puncture wounds and raw, bloody scratches in the flesh. They looked as if they had been inflicted quite violently and rather desperately.

Roxas shut the door and turned to me, stepping close as he shot furtive glances around the area. "Sora's high; he practically overdosed." He jammed his fingers into his hair, as if he had a headache. "I'm going to take him back to his house and stay with him while he rides it out. You're welcome to come, or I can take you back."

I frowned, feeling awful that I was going to have to leave eventually. Roxas didn't look like he'd know how to take care of someone, let alone someone who had gotten high and self-harmed. I wanted to stay and help, but I knew that I couldn't let Tifa and the rest of the band down. Not to mention, if I skipped out on them, Tifa would assume I was with Roxas.

But . . . Maybe just a little bit of time with them . . .

"Take me back later," I told him. "I wanna help you guys."

Roxas looked visibly relieved. "Okay, cool. So . . . We'll go bring him home, and then I'll take you back to the school in a little bit."

I nodded, and we got into the car.

x-x-x

I fluffed up the pillows on Sora's bed as Roxas helped him stagger into the room. I quickly pulled back the covers so that Roxas could help him lay down. Sora groaned and rolled onto his back, looking up at Roxas and I with beseeching eyes.

"R-Roxas . . . ?" he moaned. "Did you . . . Did you bring me some more . . . ?"

"Yes," Roxas said, though I knew it was a lie. "You're gonna be okay. Just go to sleep, and it'll all be okay when you wake up."

Sora tried to sit up, his eyes rolling frantically. "But you said-"

Roxas placed a firm hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. "Shh," he said softly. "Sleep."

"I'm sorry," Sora said, immediately starting to cry. "I'm so sorry . . ."

"It's all right," Roxas murmured, pulling the blankets back over him. "Just try and go to sleep."

Sora nodded numbly and rolled over to face the wall. He was shivering, his teeth chattering quite loudly. I timidly reached forward to smooth his hair back from his forehead and feel his temperature with the inside of my wrist. He was hot, but not too hot. He'd be all right.

"We gotta leave him for now," I told Roxas. "But when he wakes up, he'll probably be dehydrated and need water and maybe some kimchi soup."

We left the room, closing the door quietly behind us. Roxas led me down the hall toward the stairs.

"Well . . . I'm not really sure what they have here, but they might have some stuff for kimchi soup," Roxas said. "I guess, since they _are_ Korean."

Once in the kitchen, I began to search the refrigerator and cupboards for the ingredients I needed. Luckily, they had just the right amount of things, and with the help of Roxas finding me a pot, I got to work right away. I started chopping the extra vegetables, only partly conscious of Roxas watching me.

"Kimchi soup, huh?" he said, leaning nonchalantly against the counter with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was wearing a blue, red, and white plaid button up today with three-quarter sleeves and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans. He had exchanged his silver lip studs for black ones. His hair looked especially unruly and spiky.

"My _oma_, she used to make this for me when I was sick," I replied thoughtfully as I walked to the sink to fill the pot with water to boil. Then, I put it on the stove and turned up the heat.

Roxas asked, "She doesn't make it for you anymore?"

I paused with my knife poised above an uncut onion. Did I want to tell him about my mother's death? Did I want to tell anyone? I didn't think I'd even be able to find the words, should I choose to. I blinked a few times, willing the sadness to stay back.

". . . Not anymore," was all I said, and I cut the onion directly in half.

Roxas continued to watch me cook, and we both said nothing. I think we were both content to keep to ourselves, and neither of us asked the other how we felt: about Sora or my mother. After I had put the premade kimchi I'd found in the fridge into the boiling water and dumped the extra vegetables and spices in, I turned it down to simmer and faced Roxas.

"So what does the soup actually do?" Roxas asked.

"Helps with aches and pains," I shrugged.

He gave me a small half of a smile. "Some sort of secret Korean women's remedy?"

I couldn't help but giggle. "Not technically, but sort-of."

"Well, either way, I just wanna say . . . Thanks." His smile widened and he took a step closer. "For coming here, the soup . . . It helps, so . . . Thanks."

I blushed and nervously pushed my hair behind my ears. "You're welcome," I said shyly. I wasn't used to being thanked for the things that I did.

Suddenly, Roxas let loose a heavy sigh, causing me to turn my attentions to him inquisitively. He looked at me and gave me a small, sad smile. In his eyes, I saw that he had some sort of battle going on inside, as if he had something he wanted to tell me, but knew that he couldn't. My brow furrowed in confusion.

"What's the matter?" I asked, facing him.

He sighed again and I had the feeling that something was weighing extremely heavily on his shoulders. He brushed his bangs out of his eyes and chewed nervously on his lip.

"Roxas?" I asked again. "What's the _matter_?"

"It's Sora," he finally said, his voice strained. When he looked at me again, his eyes were different. Sad.

"Sora?" I asked.

I was surprised to see him sink to the floor, knees drawn up to his chest and arms resting on top of his knees. I hesitated, then moved to do the same, our bodies mere centimeters apart. I looked forward, zoning out while I waited for Roxas to find words.

"This . . . This isn't new," he whispered. "This is a failure on my part. I didn't . . . I don't know, I should have watched him better."

I frowned. "It's not your fault," I said genuinely.

"But it is," he insisted, sounding even a little angry and causing me to fall silent. He continued, "A year ago, Sora got into the drugs-heroin, cocaine, pills-really bad, and it was only a few months ago that we got him to quit. He went to rehab, family counseling, intervention, the whole thing. And now this? I don't know how this happened."

I tried to think of what to say, but I had no idea what I could possibly say to help. I wasn't good with this stuff, and this was also why I didn't deserve Roxas. I couldn't even be supportive or give him advice when he was obviously being vulnerable and letting me in. What the fuck was wrong with me?

My hands were starting to fidget; I needed a cigarette.

Roxas finally went on to say, "And then he calls me today, crying and begging me to get him more drugs? I couldn't even believe it. I _still _can't. I mean, Xi, what do I do?"

I felt a little panicky. "I don't . . . I don't know," I murmured. "I've never . . . I don't . . ."

He looked at me, his eyes bright. "Is this my _fault_? I mean . . . Did this happen because of _me_?"

Now _that _didn't sound right at all. I narrowed my eyes at him. "What? How could it be _your _fault?"

Roxas was about to say something, but then paled as some sort of inner realization dawned. He shut his mouth instantly. "Never mind . . . It's stupid. I'm just gonna have to take care of him. Listen, let's get you back to the school. I need to be by myself."

Feeling somewhat rejected, I stood up with him. I knew that I really did have to go, though. There was only a half-hour until school was out and Tifa would be waiting. Not to mention, Riku would be heading over from Central to pick us up, so I didn't want to get there at the same time as him and have either him or Tifa see me getting out of Roxas's car. That wouldn't be a good thing.

I turned off the stove before we left. As we walked out to the car, I found myself feeling more and more dejected with every step. Roxas felt as if he had failed, but I felt more like it was _I _who had failed. I hadn't been able to help Roxas at all. I had no advice, no caring words, nothing . . . I had been a deer before car headlights, and now I knew it was clear.

I truly didn't deserve Roxas.

Shakily, I lit my last cigarette, looking down at the now-empty pack in dismay. Tifa had just given me this pack, brand new and unopened, a few days ago. And now it was already empty? How many had I smoked each day? Today, even? My eyes filled with tears, but I hurriedly blinked them away. I was pathetic.

I took a very deep, very guilty drag on the cigarette, and headed over to the Mazda.

The car ride over was quiet, and whenever I glanced over at Roxas, he was extremely rigid in his seat. Both hands were on the wheel at 10 and 2 and his eyes were glued to the road. The music was off, every muscle in his body was still. It was obvious to see that he was stressed and lost in thought, and it made me feel even more awful. One thing I knew about Roxas was that he was never stressed or uptight. He was _always_ chilled out; always relaxed. He was always joking and smirking and laughing and grinning. His eyes were always twinkling. Now, seeing him like this, worried out of his mind over his cousin, blaming himself . . . And I couldn't even help him?

I quickly turned to blow cigarette smoke out of the window, letting my eyes fall shut against the breeze.

_'Pathetic_,' I thought bitterly of myself.

"Hey," Roxas said after awhile.

"Hm?" I said distantly, holding my cigarette loosely in-between my fingers.

"Why . . . I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but . . ." He sighed. "Why haven't you called Kairi? She's really upset, and she misses you."

My stomach flipped and my face went red. I knew this was bound to come up eventually. I swallowed, hard, and remained silent. I knew I was in the wrong for completely ceasing contact with her, but how could I talk to her? I was a horrible friend, a terrible person. She was too good for me, and I didn't deserve either her or Roxas.

"You should try and talk to her," Roxas suggested. "She just wants to be your friend."

"I can't," I replied, cigarette coming up to my lips.

"Why not?" His voice rose, his expression incredulous.

I shot him a look. "I have my reasons."

His mouth set itself into a thin, obviously irritated line, but he said nothing. I think he knew that it was my decision whether or not to talk to Kairi, and if I chose never to speak to her again, there would be nothing that he could do about it. Not that I _planned _on ignoring her forever. Just until I wasn't such a worthless piece of shit.

Sigh.

The rest of the car ride passed in silence. We arrived at the school just as the bell was ringing its final toll. Students were filing out of the doors and onto the front steps, chattering and laughing out of the relief that comes from a successfully completed school day. I finished up my cigarette while the car idled, tossing it out the window. Grabbing my bag, I gave Roxas a small smile.

"I guess I'll see you another time," I told him, hand on the car door.

The look on his face as he searched my eyes was unreadable. "We have to work on the song for the concert soon, you know. I don't want us to be the ones who let Mrs. Waldemeier down."

I looked away from him, feeling a bit guilty. When I thought of it that way, it really was selfish of me to be avoiding Roxas. At least, avoiding working on the song with him. It was just that now that I had formed a musical connection with Tifa, Riku, and the band, it was difficult for me to detach myself from them long enough to even think about rediscovering the connection I had once felt with Roxas.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I resolved to just take life day-by-day and today, I had to put my whole mind and heart into working with the band. Studio time was ridiculously important. We were extremely fortunate to have scored the time that we had.

"Mm, well, I have to go and meet with Tifa," I said softly, opening the car door a bit.

"She's right there, looking at us," Roxas said, pointing at the bottom of the front steps. "You'd better hurry up."

My eyes widened in stages as realization dawned upon me. Now Tifa was going to know that I had lied to her, and that I had been hanging out with Roxas. If she told Riku . . . I tried not to panic, and instead, gave Roxas a quick wave goodbye before hopping out of the car and dashing over to Tifa. The last thing I heard from Roxas was him turning his heavy metal music back on full blast, and speeding out of the parking lot at a speed much too fast.

Tifa rested her hands lightly on her hips, her eyes fixing me with a stern gaze.

"H-Hey," I said timidly, nervously.

"What the fuck was _that_?" she demanded angrily.

"I do not . . ." I awkwardly scratched the back of my head and mussed up my waist-length black locks. "I do not know what you are talking about?"

Tifa's jaw dropped. "Okay, fuck that. You know _exactly _what I'm talking about." She pointed off in the direction Roxas had just driven off in. "Xi, if Riku finds out you were off doing God-knows-what with _Roxas_ of all people, he's going to flip his shit."

"I know!" I gushed, reaching for her hand and clasping it to my chest. "That is why you must not tell him. Please?"

She narrowed her eyes and snatched her hand back. "What were you even _doing _with Roxas? You've been seeing him a lot more lately. I'm not an idiot. Is there something going on between you two?"

I shook my head wildly. "No! I swear!" I cried. "I was just helping him . . . Helping him with something. But there is nothing; Riku is the one I like."

We looked at each other for a long moment before Tifa's eyes finally softened.

"Okay," she said with an air of finality about her that soothed my fears. "I won't tell him. But you'd better quit hanging out with Roxas. I'm telling you, he's fucking dumb and Riku's a good guy. Don't blow it with him."

"I know," I breathed, linking arms with her as we started off toward the parking lot.

Tifa prattled on about her day while we waiting for Riku to show up in his car, but I was only half-listening to her words. My mind was far off, full of various thoughts. I was worried about Roxas's cousin; I hoped that he would be all right. I was guilty and concerned for Kairi, knowing now that my ignoring her was actually hurting her, though I didn't know what else to do. I worried about my stepfather and what he was going to do to me when I returned home late after practice, despite him constantly telling me to come straight home after school every day. Most of all, I was worried about my situation with Roxas and how it was going to affect my relationship with Riku. Back at Sora's house, Roxas had really opened up to me, which showed that he still considered me his friend. That terrified me. How was I going to repair that which I had broken?

Riku's car pulled up ten minutes later and his handsome, normally stoic face broke out into a wide smile as the two of us girls climbed into the car. Tifa took the backseat and I the passenger seat. Riku immediately leaned over to give me a chaste kiss on the lips.

"I'm so fucking excited!" Riku gushed excitedly as he pulled back out onto the road into the backed-up after-school traffic. You Me at Six was playing softly in the background of the car, and Tifa had launched herself as close to the two front seats as possible so that she could tell Riku in more detail about the studio time that Yuna had gotten us.

"Fuck _yes_!" Riku cheered, slamming his fist against the steering wheel with fervor. "Things are really starting to heat up for us now that Xion's our singer."

"It's like you're our good luck charm, Xi," Tifa laughed, tugging playfully on a strand of my long hair.

"Oh, gosh," I said, embarrassed. "Hardly. It is a team effort-we all work together."

"Oh, our little Xion," Riku chuckled, reaching over to squeeze my knee and sending a jolt of electricity up to the pit of my stomach. "Always the selfless little button. No, but seriously-you really helped us out. Got our butts in gear. Without you, we'd all be sitting around smoking pot and listening to Tidus's erratic drum solos."

Everyone burst out laughing, and I found that my smile was definitely more genuine than it had been in a long time. I was glad to finally have friends that I could laugh with, and excited to see what future I had with them and the band.

When we got to Tifa's house, everyone was already there waiting for us outside by Tidus' and Paine's cars. Rikku and Yuna were clasping hands together and jumping up and down in circles. Paine was smoking a cigarette on the front porch while Tidus stood in front of her, waving his hands about as if he were telling her something extremely exciting and important. The three of us got out of the car just as the front door opened and a tall blonde man stepped out.

"Hey, dad!" Tifa said, waving and rushing up to him to give him a quick hug. "Did you hear the news? Yuna got us studio time!"

"I know," her father laughed, hugging her back. I watched him kiss her forehead affectionately and felt a slight pang of jealousy and loss.

"What are you doing here, though?" Tifa asked him. "Mom said you were taking the swing shift at the hospital, I thought?"

He shook his head. "Not anymore," he said. "I switched and now I'm taking the night shift with your mom instead. Now, who is this? Is she the new singer I've heard so much about?"

It took me a moment to realize that he was talking about me, and I hurried to shake the hand he was now holding out for me. I put on a small, shy smile.

"Y-Yes," I stammered, looking up into his crystal blue eyes. "I am Xion."

"Nice to meet you, Xion!" he said. "My name is Cloud Strife. I'm really looking forward to hear the song you guys have come up with. Tifa's told me a lot about you and your talents."

I blushed and looked at Tifa with a playful glower. "Has she now? I'm really not _that_ good."

"_Are you kidding me_?!" Rikku screeched, skipping over to throw an arm around my shoulders. She grinned widely at me, then looked at Cloud. "Don't listen to her, she's too shy. She has the most kickassiest voice like, _ever_, and when you hear the track after it's recorded, you're going to freak out."

Cloud threw his head back and laughed heartily. "I'm going to freak out, huh? Well, then I guess I can't wait to hear what you guys sound like! Now, I better get inside and cook some dinner for your mom and I." He put his hands on his hips and looked at Tifa. "So where are you off to? The studio, I suppose?"

She nodded. "Yup, so don't worry about cooking for me or any of these losers."

Cloud grinned and said, "Sounds good. I'll see you when I see you, sweetie." He gave her one last kiss and hug and then went back into the house, nodding in greeting to Paine along the way.

"My dad," Tifa said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, so Yuna! Do we need to head over to the studio now, or what?"

As she and Rikku walked away to convene with Yuna, Riku took me by surprise by slipping his arms around my waist and pulling me back against his chest. I gasped as he pressed soft kisses to the side of my neck.

"Hey you," he murmured into my ear. "How was _your _day?"

I turned in his arms and leaned up to kiss him on the lips.

"It was not too good," I frowned, before launching into the tale of what had happened in class with Selphie. His brow furrowed, and he seemed genuinely bothered by it.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Riku said, fingers entwined behind my back to keep me close. "That's messed up. What're you gonna do about the project?"

I shrugged. "I do not know. I suppose I will do it on my own . . . What is most strange is that she dislikes me purely because Namine does." I frowned again. "Do you know of Namine?"

His face twisted up in confusion. "Namine? Never heard of her. What's her last name?"

I shrugged once more. "I do not know. But she really dislikes me. A lot. I do not know why."

"Well, maybe you did something to piss her off?" He raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you hang out with her ex-boyfriend or something?"

I looked at him sharply in puzzlement. How would he know if I had done something to piss her off if he didn't know who she was or what the situation was? How had he known about Roxas, or that Roxas was her ex? How did he know anything at all if he didn't know Namine?

"How did you . . . ?" I trailed off in confusion.

"Um, I mean," he said quickly. "That's what girls usually get mad about, right? Hanging out around ex-boyfriends? I don't know, I'm a guy-I don't know these things. Let's go over to the rest of the band, though. We're probably missing out on something important?"

He gave me a quick kiss and let go of me, hurrying over to the rest of the group, which was standing next to Tidus' car. I eyed him suspiciously for a second, then brushed it off. It was probably nothing. He had probably just taken a shot in the dark about the situation with Namine, and accidentally hit the nail on the head. He was a pretty smart guy, after all. He had said he didn't know her, and I believed him. He hadn't given me a reason to distrust him yet, so there really wasn't any reason for my suspicions.

However . . .

It _was _pretty odd that he had taken such a _lucky _shot in the dark.

x-x-x


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: A short chapter, but I love it. I love Sora ~**

**Chapter Eleven - Brotherhood**

_Roxas's POV_

I kicked a medium-sized rock from the middle of the sidewalk into the street, my hands slipped deep into my pockets. Shoulders hunched, I headed back toward my cousin's house. His parents would be returning home anytime now and I needed to make sure I was there to make up some sort of lie about Sora's condition. Whatever happened, nobody could know that Sora had relapsed.

When Sora had awoken, he had been slightly delirious but had certainly been hungry enough to gobble down Xion's kimchi soup like it was all he had ever desired. Directly after, he had passed out again, leaving me to pick up the empty bowl and the spoon to bring it downstairs. That was when I had left to take a walk and think about things. I completely and totally felt as if Sora's slip ups were my fault. He had been doing so well lately. What had caused him to mess up and take the drugs? Who had supplied him with the heroin? The needles? The arm strap? I knew I had to find out, and soon.

I had thought a lot about our past with the gang and it had made me realize with unsettling certainty that I had royally fucked up our lives. Especially Sora's. He never would have gotten into drugs at all if it weren't for me. It would ruin his future if anybody found out about the things we had done, too. Not to mention, my family would never forgive me for introducing him to that stuff.

I remember how it all began: the innocent curiosity, the gamble, the risk. . . . We had both been willing to try it-both had been willing to see what kind of fun we could have. We were young, still trying to find our place in the gang when after a meeting, one of the members had suggested we come to his car to "check out something sick." Being eager to impress our fellow gang members, Sora and I had instantly jumped on the chance to be accepted. We followed him to his car (his name was Xaldin, to be exact) along with Demyx and another member, Axel, and we all squeezed inside. Xaldin had wasted no time bringing out a metal box with a little clasp on it and when he opened it, I had known instantly what was inside of it. Back then I had little care for my life, what with all the hospital visits, so I had brushed it off. On the other hand, Sora had been reluctant and scared. But I was his cousin, his family. If I was up for trying it, then it had to be safe, right?

Long story short, he had become addicted to it and I had not. So began his quick spiral downward into the hellhole that I had made available for him to enter.

The guilt ate away at me daily, adding to the other sins that weighed upon my heart. It was making me feel as if everyone would be better off if I was dead.

I walked into Sora's house, calling his name as I did so.

"Up here, bro," he called back from his bedroom upstairs, sounding groggy. I could tell that he had just barely woken up.

"What's up?" I said as I went into his room, closing the door behind me.

Sora was sitting up in bed, shirtless, his blankets a mess around him. Sweat had caused his unruly hair to droop slightly and he looked unbearably sad and somewhat sheepish. I pulled the chair out from his desk and turned it around so that I could sit, face him, and talk with him. I had to get to the bottom of this whole situation.

"Before you say anything," Sora said, rubbing his head tiredly with one hand, "I just want to apologize. I . . . I messed up, man. I messed up bad, and . . . I guess I'm just . . . Sorry."

I sighed heavily and leaned back in the chair, legs spread and hands resting lazily in my lap. I just shook my head and stared at him for a long time. Yes, I was disappointed in him. Yes, I was angry that he had let himself go like that. Yes, I was pretty sure that he had made the conscious decision to slip up. But was I going to hold a grudge against him? Of course not. He was my best friend _and _my family.

"Look, dude," I said after a while. "I'm not mad, okay? I'm just worried about you. This . . . This isn't like you. Not anymore."

"Yes, it is," Sora groaned. "Who are we kidding? I fucking suck. If Kairi knew . . . If my parents . . . Shit, man, I don't deserve any of you guys in my life. I'm a total fuck up. I'm—"

"Shit, dude, shut _up_!" I shouted angrily, horrified to hear him talking about himself as such. "Do you think I would have come all the way to your school and brought you here if I didn't care? Come on, bro. I love you and we've been through Hell together. If this is anyone's fault, it's mine."

Sora's face screwed up in a strange expression. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Roxas, please," he begged, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he looked over at me. "Don't think that. I . . . I made this decision. I did this to myself. It's _not _your fault."

"Yes, it is," I insisted, sitting up in my seat. "If it weren't for me joining the gang first, you never would have joined. And if it weren't for me making you think it was okay to try the heroin, you never would have—"

"No!" he barked, his eyes blazing in anger. "Roxas, are you _serious_? I didn't try the fucking heroin because you tried it—I did it because I _wanted _to do it. I thought that if I did it, then they would accept me in the gang, and I would move up faster. I didn't do that shit because of you."

I looked away. "I feel like it's my fault, though. All of this. Everything. My family doesn't trust me and even if I didn't physically put the needle into your skin, I feel as if I might as well have." I buried my face in my hands, struggling not to cry. Sora meant so much to me and to think . . . To think that I had caused this . . .

"Roxas, just stop," Sora sighed. "It's pointless to talk about any of this. Let's just . . . I don't know, I need a shower. My parents are gonna be home soon. I need to make sure I don't look . . . Well, you know, like I just got done being cracked out."

We both couldn't help but crack a smile. I shook my head. Leave it to Sora to make a joke. Nevertheless, I rose to my feet and made ready to take my leave. As I was leaving, Sora spoke.

"Hey, wait," he said curiously, peering across the room at me from his bed.

"Yeah?" I questioned.

"Who was here earlier?" he asked. "I mean, who helped you get me home?"

For some reason, I felt my heart skip a beat. I didn't know why, though. All I knew was that oddly enough, I didn't want him to know that Xion had helped me out with him. I didn't want him to tell Kairi that I had seen Xion another time, because then her feelings would be hurt that Xion hadn't yet contacted her.

"Um, nobody," I lied, flashing a quick smile. "Why?"

He looked confused. "Hm . . . Are you sure? Cuz I coulda swore there was somebody else? And that soup . . . You're a terrible cook, so you couldn't have made it."

"I bought it at the store," I quickly said. "While you were asleep. Then heated it up. But yeah, dude, honest-there was nobody here. Anyway, take it easy."

Sora shrugged. "Oh. Well, okay. I'll see ya later! Thanks again, bro. Oh! And also, I found out that name for you . . . Riku. His name is Riku. I don't really know why you wanted to know, but yeah, I found out for you."

Hm . . . So the silver-haired bastard who was all over Xion at lunchtime was named Riku . . . I didn't know how that made me feel, but at least now I had a name to go with the face I currently despised.

I was about to leave, but again, he stopped me.

"Roxas?"

I turned to him, raising one eyebrow.

He gave me a small ghost of a smile and looked at me as if seeing right through me. "You know I love you, right? After everything we've been through . . . I love you, man. And . . . Thank you. Thank you for being there." He spoke in Korean, so I knew he really wanted me to understand that he meant what he said, and for me to not take it lightly.

I crossed the room to him and gripped one of his shoulders tightly.

"I'll always be here for you, Sora," I said sincerely in Korean. "We're family, and family never turns their back on one another. Not for anything."

Once in my car, I exhaled heavily and relaxed in my seat without even putting the keys into the ignition. Amidst the silence, I wondered to myself why I had hidden the fact that Xion had been in his house. I mean, honestly, it wasn't that big of a deal. I could meet up with whoever I wanted. It wasn't like Sora was gonna care. If anything, he'd probably just want to thank her for helping out. And yet . . . Xion felt like my little secret. I was hoping to slowly chip away at the exterior she had built up around herself in the past month. Whether she was dating the silver-haired guy or not, I would win her back and once again, we could experience our musical connection together.

I turned on the car and pulled out of the driveway, heading for home.

x-x-x

_Xion's POV_

I plopped down on the couch in the studio room, uncapping the water bottle that Riku had given me. Rikku grinned at me from her spot beside me.

"You sound great," she said. "I can't believe we got the song recorded in only five takes. That's amazing!"

I smiled shyly and thanked her before we both turned our attentions to Tidus, who was recording the drum parts of the song with the help of Yuna and Paine at the sound board, and Tifa and Riku at the computer.

"It sounds a little too heavy from our side," Yuna said into the window microphone.

Tidus pulled aside his headset, drumsticks in one hand. "Eh? Really? Sounds fine to me. But I guess the song isn't that heavy of a song . . . Let's try it again!"

"Sounds good!" Yuna smiled before they set into again.

Rikku yawned and pulled her knees up to her chest. "Tidy is such a spazz," she said sleepily with a cheesy grin. "It's going to be like pulling teeth trying to get him to go easy on those drums. Anyway, how are you and my brother? I see you guys have gotten pretty close since working on the song together?"

I blushed and ducked my head down. "He is wonderful," I told her, trying not to think about the fact that he wouldn't be so wonderful to me if he found out that I had hung out with Roxas alone twice now. I didn't think the two of them would like each other much. "I like him very much."

"That's great," she replied sincerely, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "He's usually quite the ladies' man, so I was surprised to see him 'settle down', if you know what I mean."

"Y-Yes," I stammered. "He is very handsome. But . . . Um, ladies' man? What is that?"

She shrugged nonchalantly and carefully inspected her painted nails. "Meh, nothing too serious. He's just usually not one to have a 'girlfriend'. A lot of girls at Central want him, so he just picks a new toy each week, you could say."

I swallowed, hard. I hadn't thought that Riku was that kind of guy . . . Could I just be a toy to him? I glanced across the room at him and he did the same. He flashed me a brilliant smile; one that made me shiver clear down to my toes. He always looked at me as if he were undressing me with his eyes. It was unnerving and yet I liked the attention. It made me feel as if for once, just while he was looking at me, I wasn't worthless. If even for a moment.

Rikku laughed, snapping me out of my reverie. "Oh well, maybe you changed him? Who knows! All I know is you're the best thing to ever happen to our band! Without you, we wouldn't have a vocalist. So thanks!"

"You are welcome," I said quietly, taking a sip of my water.

We had been at the studio for about an hour or so already and things were coming along pretty smoothly. That was good since there was a possibility that some pretty important people in the record business might be at either one of our future gigs. Especially at Namine's Halloween party, since she and her parents had really good connections. Now, I wasn't entirely sure that Namine knew I was fronting the band, and I'm sure that if she did know, she would _not _be too happy about it. I had a feeling something dramatic was going to happen when she _did _find out, but I didn't really want to worry too much about it. Besides, I highly doubted my bandmates would allow her to be rude to me.

My phone vibrated repeatedly in my pocket, signaling that I was receiving a call. I checked it and frowned. It was my stepfather calling. Against my better judgment, I pressed the ignore button on the screen. He would probably leave me an irate voicemail and I would probably get Hell for it when I got home, but I didn't care. I wasn't going home. I was staying the night at Tifa's tonight, and the next night, and the night after that. For as long as I could get away with it. I had already thought it through. If I was gone for multiple days on end and then randomly went home for one night, I would get one single punishment for all of the days I had been gone. Then, the following day, I could leave again and repeat the cycle. I was most likely being an idiot, but I was desperate. It was be punished every single night for any reason my stepfather could think of, or one punishment to make up for multiple nights of absenteeism. What would anyone else do in my situation?

"'Kay, I think that's good for today," Tifa announced, stretching her arms out above her head. She ran her hands through her hair and shot me a smile. "'Ey, Xi. Come over here for a sec."

Confused, I walked over to her.

She grinned at me mischievously. "So my boy toy wants us to come over tonight . . . And you're sleeping over, right?"

I nodded.

Her grin widened. "Well . . . He told me I could invite you and Riku."

"Isn't he in college, though?" I chewed on my bottom lip. "And don't we have school in the morning?"

Tifa gave me an incredulous look. "Fuck, Xi, way to be a party pooper. It's no big deal; we'll just skip school tomorrow. Sleep in and whatnot. Come on, it'll be fun!" She smiled, all teeth and innocent excitement.

I rolled my eyes, throwing caution to the wind. Why the Hell not? I was getting tired of following the rules. I was getting _tired_ of setting my own happiness aside to make way for my fear of punishment from my stepfather. As if to solidify my decision, I pulled out my phone and pressed the power button on the top.

Tifa giggled. "Great! This'll be awesome."

As I waited for everyone to load their equipment into the band van (which belonged to Paine's parents), I couldn't stop myself from thinking about what had happened today with Roxas and his cousin, Sora. Obviously, I wasn't the only person on this planet that needed serious help. I could tell that Roxas was completely overwhelmed with emotion when it came to his cousin's situation and I had heard it in his voice when he confessed his feelings of guilt. But of course, this wasn't the only thing on my mind when it came to Roxas. I also thought of many other things having to do with him: our project, our friendship, or musical connection, or meeting at the park, me crying in his arms, Kairi, etcetera. I wondered if I would be thinking about Roxas for the rest of the night . . .

x-x-x

I awoke the next morning feeling panicked. I was curled up in a ball on the floor of Tifa's boyfriend's bedroom, beer cans and bottles strewn about me like raindrops. When I sat up, my head immediately pounded as if someone had hit me across the skull with a baseball bat, and my breath tasted foul. I pulled a face and looked around me wildly, not entirely remembering where I was. I saw Tifa and her boyfriend lying together on top of her boyfriend's bed, snoring quite loudly. Riku was on his back next to me, shirt off and mouth open as he slept soundlessly.

'_Shirt off?' _I thought, my alarm increasing. '_What happened last night?'_

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember what had transpired the night before. When I looked down at myself, I was absolutely horrified to see that I wasn't wearing anything but my bra and panties, and my disgustingly fat body was visible for all the world to see. I struggled to calm myself down, trying to piece together the events of the night before. After the band had packed up and everyone had gone their separate ways, Tifa, Riku, and I had all taken his car to Tifa's boyfriend, Zack's apartment. It had all started out innocently enough, with the four of us settling onto his living room couch to watch a scary movie. Halfway during the movie, we all needed a smoke break so we went out onto the balcony to do so. The boys had gotten to talking, since they were friends, and before I knew it, Zack had brought the alcohol out. I hadn't wanted to seem like a total and complete loser to Riku, so I accepted one beer, and after that, it was done. I was a lightweight and that coupled with my internal self-loathing caused me to go way beyond "just a few sips" until I had managed to black out completely. And now I couldn't even remember what we had all done, nor could I figure out why I was shirtless on the floor next to Riku.

The sickening fear that I might have gone further with Riku than I had intended caused me to come to the brink of a total mental breakdown. What if we had fooled around? What if we had had _sex_? What if he had taken advantage of me, like my stepfather continuously did? Tears filled my eyes.

I scrambled to my feet and crossed the room to where my discarded purse lay by the computer desk. I rummaged through it, my tears clouding my vision as I struggled to locate my cell phone. I felt stifled and suffocated; I had to get out of here. My panic was causing me to not be able to think clearly, so I abandoned the phone search. Without heeding the fact that everyone was sleeping, I frantically scoured the room for my clothes. All I could think about was how repulsive my body looked, and how embarrassed I was that Riku had seen it. He must have thought I was absolutely disgusting.

"Xion . . . ?" Riku groaned and sat up, placing the heel of his palm to the side of his head. "Aw, shit, my head is killing me . . ." Then, he blinked and saw me moving about as if a banshee were on my heels. "What are you _doing_?"

"I must go," I said, my voice breaking. "I must go. I have to go. I must leave."

He immediately got to his feet, coming to my side. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

I batted his hands away and shoved my hideous body into my clothes to cover it up. I was in a state of shock and fear and distress. Finally, he grabbed me tightly by the shoulders and forced me to face him.

"Xi, stop!" he begged. "What is _wrong_?"

I turned my face away, completely mortified. "You . . . You saw me . . ."

He looked bewildered. "Saw you? What . . . ? You mean last night?"

I had to look at him then, face pale and fear in my eyes. "What did I do? Did we . . . Did you . . . Did I . . . ?"

"Calm _down_, Xion," he whispered, placing a finger to my lips before stroking my hair back. His own long silver hair was an unruly, jagged mess about his shoulders and face; his aquamarine eyes bored into mine. "Don't worry. We didn't do anything, and I would never take advantage of you."

I started to protest, but he pulled me tight to his chest and held me. His arms were muscular and he was warm, but something about his embrace didn't feel quite right.

"Riku . . ." I whimpered.

"Shh," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I will never ever make you do anything you don't want to do . . ."

I closed my eyes and relaxed into him.

"I promise."

But how often are promises kept?

x-x-x


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I feel it is important to let everyone know that this story is going to make a big change after chapter 13! MEANING I am rewriting the last half of it COMPLETELY! So it will be new stuff from me thay you haven't seen or read before. Also, I'm sorry if this story is so very rated M, but get ready cuz it'll get worse lol. Anyway, I hope I can continue to please you all with my work! I hope I please **_**all **_**my readers with this story! Enjoy~**

**Chapter Twelve – Tricks and Treats, Part One**

_Roxas's POV_

"I don't care what anyone says, I'm crashing that party." Kairi took a noisy bite out of her apple as she spoke absentmindedly, glaring across the Cafeteria at where Xion, Tifa, the boy who I now knew was named Riku, and a few others were sitting. Poor Kairi was still hung up about Xion and she had taken to spending lunchtime glaring at Xion while she angrily ate her food.

"What party?" I said, slightly amused. Xion was naïve; I don't think she knew what it was like to have a redhead angry at you.

"That bitch Namine's Halloween party. I have a feeling _she'll _be there. Maybe I can corner her there in a room and get her to talk to me," Kairi said, as if she had been plotting this for weeks. She smirked. "Then she can't ignore me! Muahahahaaaa~"

I rolled my eyes. "Kai, you're crazy."

"Duh, where have _you _been?" she laughed. "You should know that by now. And anyway, you know I love a good chance to piss Namine off. She'll be downright peeved when she sees me at _her _party, trust me."

I sighed, "I don't doubt it, Kairi, it's just that I don't think it's a good idea."

She shot me a look, freezing mid-bite. She hurriedly swallowed and blinked at me. "Since when do you voice your opinion about what I do? You _know_ I hate Namine; how is it _not _a good idea?"

I blanched. I hadn't meant to let slip how I felt. I didn't want anyone to find out that I still had feelings for Xion—it didn't really "go" with my whole stoic and cool look. Meaning I hated being vulnerable, especially in front of my friends. Back when I was in the gang, showing vulnerability is what got you beaten, or worse: killed.

"It's . . ." I struggled to find the right words to amend myself. "It's not that I don't think it's a good idea, it's . . . I wanted to go, too, and I thought you might want to just go alone. So I worded it wrong. I guess. Um. Yeah." I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, knowing I had only dug myself down into a deeper hole.

"Riiiight," Kairi said suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at me while she ate the last of her apple. "Well, you can _go_. I don't care; do what the fuck you want. Besides, you were invited, weren't you? Why would you need to ask _me_?"

I chose not to answer, knowing that Kairi already knew I was hiding something. It was no use making myself look even more foolish by lying some more to my best friend. So instead, I changed the subject.

"So, my parents are thinking they might need help around the restaurant here pretty soon," I told her. "You game to pitch in?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Money? A job? Hell to the yeah!" She grinned.

"Yeah, I guess they're gonna be needing to fire some of the staff soon, so they told me to ask you and Sora if you'd want to take their places. It's too expensive to keep them on full time, especially since they expect benefits and have families and all that. And since the restaurant is close to a shopping center, and holidays are coming up, they're gonna need those extra people," I explained.

Kairi's facial expression softened and she rested a hand lightly on my arm. "Are things getting really bad? Financially, I mean."

I nodded somberly. "Sadly, yes. The hospital bills are getting really bad. My last visit was a month ago or so and it really set us back."

Kairi's face fell. This was news to her. "A month? Are you . . . ? Rox . . ."

"Don't worry," I said reassuringly. "The doctor didn't find any negative changes or anything. I just had an 'episode', you could say. I'm fine, though. If you can though, it would be great for my parents if you and Sora could work at the restaurant with me."

"Of course," she said. "And they don't even have to pay us."

"Oh, please," I rolled my eyes. "My parents would be pissed if you guys didn't accept some sort of pay. Maybe if you let them pay you a bit less . . . ?"

Kairi nodded. "That sounds fine to me. Sora should be okay with it, too. I think all of our parents will be happy to see us with a real job, anyway!"

We both laughed a little bit, and Kairi squeezed my hand.

"Well, I'm glad you're okay, anyway." She elbowed me playfully. "Don't go and die on me, Roxy. Otherwise, I'll have to press charges against you. And sue you. And get a restraining order. And all that jazz."

I ruffled her hair. "Love you, too, Kai."

She glared daggers at me, protecting her precious hairstyle from further onslaught. The lunch bell sounded, and it was time to go. I couldn't help but feel quite warm inside with the knowledge that my friends worried about me and that they were willing to help me and my family out. It made me happy to know that I wasn't alone, and also to know that my parents were going to be happy, too.

x-x-x

The next few days passed quickly and before I knew it, it was the day of Namine's Halloween party. Kairi had called me and asked if I wanted to go costume shopping with her and Sora and I had said yes. I knew Namine pretty well: if I didn't have a costume on, I was going right out the door. Her themed parties were extremely important to her, and usually had thousands of dollars put into the decorations, catering, and entertainment. And since they were held at her parents' mansion, she wanted everyone to stick to the theme to help enhance the overall "ambiance" of the house. It was stupid and I thought it was shallow and pointless, but I had already made the decision that I was going to this damn party.

Not to mention, there was a chance that Xion might be there. I didn't know if Namine hated Xion or not, but the slight possibility was enough to make me want to give it a shot.

"_Oma_, I'm leaving for the mall," I said in Korean, poking my head into the twins' bedroom, where she was hanging a picture of a pink unicorn above Eun Ju's bed.

"The mall?" she answered also in Korean, turning to peer at me. "Why would you need to go to the mall? And did you ask your friends about the restaurant yet? And _yaa_! Where did you get the money to go shopping?!"

I scowled in exasperation. When my mother scolded me in Korean, she had a tendency to jump all over the board when it came to demanding answers of me. I rolled my eyes, turned, and walked away down the hall. She followed me, protesting the entire way down the stairs.

"You selfish—_aissh_, come back here!"

"_Annyeo, oma_!" I growled. "I can go to the mall if I want."

"When will you be home?" She put her hands on her hips, watching me slip my Vans on at the garage doorway. "Your _appa _might need help at the restaurant tonight."

"I told you the day before yesterday that I had a Halloween party, _oma_!" I yelled, throwing my arms up. "Why don't you listen?!"

She gasped and her jaw dropped. "Talk to me like that, you—!" She reached forward and pinched my cheek. I yelped and batted her hand away, glowering at her.

"I'm going," I said, stalking over to my car. She could be so annoying sometimes. She was still yelling even as I pulled out of the garage and into the driveway, waving her hands about and shaking her head in disappointment. I idled for a moment when I saw Eun Seo stick her head out from behind my mother's legs and wave goodbye to me with a big, cute grin on her face. Smiling, I waved back and continued out onto the road.

"_Saranghae, oppa!_" I heard Eun Seo cry just before I sped off in the direction of the mall.

As I drove, I allowed myself to think of Xion again. I wondered how she was doing. I wondered if she was happy with that silver-haired guy, Riku. I wondered if she ever thought about me, and if things would have turned out different had she never met Tifa or Riku. I also wondered if I was going mad—I had never been this choked up over a girl since Namine and that hadn't even been healthy. I hoped I wasn't going mad.

My cell phone began to ring, and I turned my loud heavy metal music down. It was Sora.

"Hey, we're just about there," he said, the sounds of cars coming from the background. He was obviously driving. "You manage to get out of the house without being berated, Korean-style?"

"Chyeah, right," I snorted. "That'd be a fucking dream . . . Anyway, I just left the house a minute ago. I'll be there soon though."

"Sounds good," he replied. "I'll try to find a parking spot in front of the food court entrance—Kai's starving."

As if on cue, I was able to hear Kairi complaining obnoxiously about how empty her stomach was, along with a number of expletives aimed at drivers around them.

"_You mother fucker, what the fuck are you doing?! Turn on your fucking signal if you're gonna switch lanes! I mean, seriously, what the fuck?! If I wasn't so fucking __**hungry**__, I'd ram the bumper of this bastard's car so fast . . . And look at this fucking __**douche bag! **__Yeah, you know, fuck you, too if you're gonna play it that way, asshole!_"

I laughed, "Kairi's driving, isn't she?"

"Uhyup," Sora replied.

"Well, good luck with that," I said in a chipper tone. "I'll see you when I get there!"

"Nuuuuu," Sora wailed. "Don't leave me with this crazy—"

I pressed the End button on my cell phone's screen.

x-x-x

"Sometimes I wonder if she has three stomachs," Sora murmured to me.

"I think she has five," I murmured back.

We were currently sitting at a table in the crowded food court, watching in fascinated horror as Kairi wolfed down a foot-long meatball marinara sandwich from Subway with everything on it. She didn't seem to mind that we were so shocked by her ability to eat like a football player, but then again, this wasn't a new thing for us to see. Kairi always ate like a horse, but she was definitely still not holding a candle to the way Sora and I could eat. We both had gotten huge meals from McDonald's, containing multiple burgers and large fries each.

We were quite the trio, now weren't we?

I glanced around the court, not really surprised to see how packed with people it was. There were kids, teenagers, and adults alike, all here for likely the same reasons: To find Halloween costumes. Today was Halloween, so it stood to reason that's why everyone would be here. Many of the clothing stores and such were having massive Halloween sales, but there was only one store in this mall that held authentic costumes specifically for Halloween. Kairi wasn't your typical girl though, so she had insisted on creating her own costume in a creative way by compiling things from random stores together.

While Sora went to grab some more napkins for us, Kairi managed to talk around a mouthful of food.

"So you got any idea what you're gonna dress up as?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Haven't really thought of it. Might be easy to just go as a vampire, or something."

"A Korean vampire, huh?" She laughed with a roll of her cerulean eyes heavenward. "It would definitely suit you. Those snakebites and huge ass plugs add to the creep factor."

"Oh, shut up," I said, kicking back in my chair, having finished my food in record time. "What are _you_ gonna be, Ms. Expert?"

She smirked at me. "Sora insisted I go the traditional route."

"The traditional route?" I queried. "What, you mean like a ghost or a witch? Sounds boring."

"No, you idiot," Sora said as he plopped down in his chair and handed Kairi a napkin. He smirked at me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Lingerie and rabbit ears. Duh."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I said. "And what are _you_ gonna be? Her owner?"

"Uhyup," he grinned. "I'm gonna get a leash and collar down at the Halloween store. And I'm wearing a pair of skinny leather jeans (which you know I despise with every fiber of my being), a studded belt, and a collar."

"And I'll most certainly be wearing four-inch platform stilettos," Kairi also smirked. The two of them seemed to think they had the cleverest of all costumes picked out.

I looked from one to the other incredulously. Were they serious? Namine was going to flip her shit if they showed up looking like slave and master porn stars—nobody was allowed to look hotter than her, and especially not Kairi. Nonetheless, Kairi's main goal in life was to piss off the Queen Bee, and dressing up as some sort of Playboy bunny was certainly going to do the trick. I threw my hands up in defeat and leaned back in my chair again. Better off to let them be.

"Well, I guess I'll just be a vampire, since they have those cool fangs that you melt down and then form to the shape of your own canines," I said begrudgingly. "Honestly, I'm not really caring about the dressing up part. I only care about finding . . ." I trailed off, realizing that I had come dangerously close to revealing my real reason for going to Namine's party.

Sora didn't seem to notice, but Kairi eyed me accusingly over her sandwich as she took another bite. Thankfully, however, she didn't address the situation, and moved on.

"You'll look hot if you wear like, black skinny jeans, combat boots, a white V-neck and a leather jacket. And a spiked choker. And get the fangs," she said nonchalantly. "I can put a little bit of eyeliner on your eyes. You'd look good in eyeliner, anyway."

"All right, well if we got a plan, let's get going," Sora said, finishing the last of his fries. "The party starts at nine and it's already five."

Agreeing, we all got up to throw out our trays and headed out into the battlefield that was the mall in this city. There were always so many people crowding the walkways, clamoring to get to the sales first, that it was ridiculous. The parents were the worst, since they came in groups of like, one hundred, and they seemed to like to stop dead in the middle of the fucking pathway just to look at their phones or some shit. There were a number of times where we had to either shove our way through them, or where Sora had to hold his hand over Kairi's mouth to keep her from cussing at some of them with her sailor's mouth. Eventually, we came upon Hot Topic, where we were sure to find a lot of the things we needed, and headed inside.

Sora and Kairi immediately headed to the place where the lingerie was and I made my way to where the chokers were. The sales associates greeted me, and I was polite but declined any assistance. I peered at the selection, unable to keep my mind off of Xion for the umpteenth time that day.

I wondered what _she _would look like in nothing but lingerie and rabbit ears . . .

Shaking my head free of such a delicious image, I grabbed a spiked choker and headed over to where Sora and Kairi were.

"What do you think about green and black?" Kairi was asking him. "Or maybe I should just stick with red . . . ?"

Sora just shrugged and shot me a look. I could tell he just wanted her to get them all so that he could have an excuse to see her in each set. I couldn't help but laugh at him, and then I showed them the choker I had chosen.

"Sweet," Kairi said. "Did you find some pants or boots or anything?"

"Didn't look," I said. "I'd rather check at H&M for the pants and boots; PacSun will have a pretty cool leather jacket." I turned to Sora as Kairi continued to sift through the lingerie selections. "Did she tell you about my parents' job offer?"

"Yeah, dude!" he said, brightening up. "That's pretty legit of your parents to offer us jobs. Any extra money is helpful."

I looked at him pointedly and he nudged me.

"Don't _worry_," he said in a low tone. "For Christmas presents and stuff. I made you a promise. I intend to keep it, man."

I clapped a hand on his shoulder, relieved that he hadn't accidentally let Kairi in on our secret debt. "Good," I said with a small smile.

"I'll get the red and black," Kairi suddenly announced. "The bunny ears I saw down at the Halloween store last week had red on them I think, so this will match."

We walked up to the register and prepared to pay for our items. As the cashier chatted amiably with Sora while he bagged up Kairi's stuff, I caught Kairi looking almost dreamily at a Miku Hatsune shirt on the wall.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing . . ." she said softly. "It's just that . . . Well, Xion was the one who showed Vocaloid to me. It was one of her favorite things from this time her family went to Japan. She said she liked to dance to the music." Kairi smiled sadly up at me. "We used to dance around my room to Miku Hatsune's songs a lot."

I didn't smile back. I didn't want to talk about Xion. I didn't want anyone to suspect that I still cared for her.

"So that'll be $19.98," the cashier said cheerily to Kairi. She had short silver hair and crimson eyes, which I thought was pretty cool.

Kairi paid, I rang up my choker and paid, and then we left the shop.

"Dude, that chick was pretty cool!" Sora gushed. "She said she's in a band, and that they're playing at Namine's party tonight! I guess she goes to Central and knows Namine's friend Tifa, who goes to your school, Rox."

As we walked in the direction of H&M, an alarm bell rang in my head.

"Wait . . . That chick knows Tifa?" I said.

"Ew, Tifa's friends with _Namine_?" Kairi grimaced, reaching to hold Sora's hand. "Just when I thought she couldn't get any nastier."

Sora answered me, ignoring Kairi's comment. "Yeah, they're in a band together. Namine invited them to play at the party tonight. Supposedly they've got a new singer, and they're really psyched to 'show her off', I guess."

"She's probably just as slimy as Tifa and Namine," Kairi said derisively. "I doubt she's that good of a singer."

"I don't know," Sora disagreed. "Namine wouldn't invite a band that sucked to her party . . . You know how she is about ambiance and all that mansion shit. They must be pretty good. And anyway, that girl looked pretty cool. I doubt she'd be in a band that made her look bad."

"Well, whatever," Kairi said, smiling up at Sora. "I guess we'll see tonight."

"Yep," he leaned down to give her a quick peck on the cheek.

My mind, however, was not so calm. A red flag had gone off in my head and I had a lot of questions bouncing around that didn't add up. So the girl in Hot Topic was in a band with Tifa, and they both knew Namine. Tifa and Namine were friends—or at least, they had to be if Namine had invited Tifa to her Halloween bash. Riku and Tifa were friends, and Riku was dating Xion. Xion and Tifa were friends. Were Riku and Namine friends? Were Xion and Namine friends? _That _seemed hard to believe . . . Was Xion in the band with them, or was it someone else? Would Xion be at the party tonight? Tifa most certainly would be there, if she was in the band with the silver-haired girl. And if my suspicions were true and Riku _was _friends with Namine, then it stood to reason that Xion might actually show up. But that left the question of Namine's relationship with Xion. Did she hate her for being friends with me? Or had she cooled off since seeing that Xion was dating someone else? And what if Riku and Namine were friends, and Namine still hated Xion? That wouldn't bode well for poor Xion.

"Dude, Roxas, you in there?"

Sora's voice broke into my deep thought processes, and I blinked owlishly. I looked at Sora as if I'd seen him for the first time.

"Huh?"

"H&M's right here. We're going in . . ." He looked at me warily. "You need a minute? You seem . . . Off."

"No, I'm fine, I'll . . ." My voice trailed off for the second time that day when my eyes slid to the right and in the crowd just beyond Sora, I could see a few familiar faces coming toward us. Feeling panicky, I knew I had to get Sora to go into that store with Kairi, and away from potential threat.

"I'll be in soon. You go ahead."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," I insisted, trying not to look to his right again. "Kairi's already inside and she'll get impatient. Just go."

"Well, all right," he shrugged. "If you insist."

I watched him go inside and just as I turned to confront who I had seen, _they _confronted _me._

"Well, well, well. If it isn't our little runaway, Roxas Park."

Standing before me were a few old friends, if you could call them that. The ever-pleasant Demyx Lightle, Namine's brother, was eyeing me with an almost triumphant glare. Beside him stood Xigbar: the cornrowed and scarred man didn't look too happy to be here, but I knew better. He was always present at money-collectings. He enjoyed the thrill of the "hunt." To the left and a little behind Xigbar stood someone I hadn't had the _pleasure _of seeing for quite a while.

"Axel," I said with a curt nod in his direction.

Axel Richards was a tall, impossibly thin boy of about twenty-one with a penchant for violence and an unnatural obsession with fire. Axel had been the one who taught Sora and I how to properly burn down a building. He had been present at every single one of our missions. He was once a friend and on the inside, a pretty good and loyal guy, but now that we were no longer brothers-in-arms, I didn't think he liked me all that much. His spiky red hair was long down to his shoulders and had been styled to look almost like an explosive flame. The black diamond-shaped tattoos under his brilliant emerald eyes were still intact and when he grinned at me, it was fierce.

"Roxy," he said in reply to my greeting. "Long time no see."

"Burn any houses lately?" I shot back. "_People_, perhaps?"

Axel's smile faltered for a second, rage flaring up in his eyes, and then the trader face was back on. "Just doing my civic duties, sir." He gave me a lazy salute.

"What do you guys want?" I asked, my voice like an icy, bitter mountain wind. I knew I was being brave, since I knew I had the advantage. In an open, public place like the mall, they wouldn't dare try to strike me. It was so crowded that if they beat me and tried to run, the mall cops would be on them before they even made it six feet.

The three of them exchanged glances between them and then Demyx spoke.

"We won't beat around the bush here, Park," he said, voice hard as flint. "Xemnas is calling upon you for a favor. If you can't pay up, you had better do as he says."

"I don't have any money together for a payment just yet," was my automatic response. Which was true. I didn't expect Sora and I to have another payment until mid-November. Sora had yet to start working at my family's restaurant, which was most likely where we would be receiving the money from. The only reason why I had money for costume shopping is because I had started working more often at the restaurant weeks ago. But I definitely didn't have enough for an entire payment on my own.

Axel scowled and looked around us. "No money? You're shopping, so you must have something."

"Nope," I said. "Nothing."

Xigbar was suddenly on me, grabbing me by the front of my black V-neck and lifting me up a few feet. We were both tall and toned, so it was definitely scary to see that he had the ability to lift me like that. He held me up against the bars that separated the walkway from the open space that dropped down to the first floor of the mall. So far, nobody had noticed us.

"What do you take us for?" Xigbar growled dangerously into my face. "Idiots? _Fools_?" He shook me with each word, and I was unable to keep the fear from filling my eyes. What would it take for him to throw me over the edge of the railing?

"Look, Roxas," Axel said to my right. "Xemnas is done messing around. Either pay up or take on a mission. Easy as that."

"And if I don't?" I challenged.

Xigbar shook me violently before he let me down on my feet. He didn't move away though and when I looked at him, I saw the unspoken threat in his eyes. _Xion._

I flipped out. Without a second thought, I grabbed his shirt and whirled us around faster than a blur. I had my hand around his throat, squeezing, and a murderous look in my eyes as ferocious anger pulsated through my blood. He hadn't even had to say anything—I knew he remembered Xion. He'd held a gun to her head, after all. I knew that Xemnas and the rest of the gang were prepared to do whatever it took to get what they wanted out of me. Xion was no longer a person; in their eyes, she was an expendable pawn.

"_You leave her out of this_," I snarled through clenched teeth.

Demyx placed a calm hand on my arm. A warning.

I stepped away from Xigbar, my hands shaking at my sides. A few people passing by had slowed, obviously aware that something dangerous was at play amongst us four boys.

"Don't overcomplicate things, Roxas," Demyx said softly, his eyes flashing. "You made the agreement when Xemnas allowed you two to leave. Sora made the agreement as well. Would you guys really go back on your word?"

I sighed. "Look, it's not like I'm intentionally not paying. _There's no money._ The money's run out, man." I held my palms up defensively.

Axel stepped close to me. "Xemnas doesn't listen to excuses. Everything is an excuse to him." He caught my gaze and held it. "Don't make us have to hurt _her_."

I narrowed my eyes at him. So now everyone knew about Xion. Xigbar and Demyx had probably been gleeful when they informed Xemnas that I had someone I wanted to protect. Now, they would use her against me in the worst of ways.

"What do I have to do?" I asked warily, shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Nothing too dangerous," Demyx said, the triumphant smile back on his face. It was now that I noticed he had a black backpack on his shoulders. He held it out to me, and I begrudgingly took it.

"What's in it?" I asked.

"Take a look," he grinned.

So I did, feeling my stomach flip as I saw what was inside. Three or four large packets of white powder that could only be known as cocaine. I hurriedly zipped it closed before any of the passerby caught a glimpse.

"So what do you want me to do with it?" I growled. "Sell it?"

"Nope," Axel said, folding his arms over his chest. "We want you to transport it."

"To where?"

"Not saying it here," Xigbar hastily interjected. "In the next week, you will get a text from an unknown number with the location, date, and time of the pick-up. Bring no one with you. You must come alone and unarmed."

I glared at him. "So you expect me to go do your dirty work alone, with no way of protecting myself?"

"It's all part of the job, Roxy," Axel chuckled, hands on his hips. "You didn't expect that Xemnas would make it too easy, did ya?"

I scowled and slung the backpack over my shoulder. Then, I arched one brow at the three of them. "And what happens if I get caught?"

Demyx's smile was wide and frighteningly calm. "You won't."

"And what happens if I don't do it?"

Xigbar smirked. "Your little Korean whore will be the one who receives the answer to _that_ question."

I struggled to keep my rage in check. Those insufferable bastards . . . ! _She wasn't a whore._

"F-Fine," I spat out. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Very good," was Demyx's reply, and then they were gone.

Almost immediately after they had disappeared, Kairi came waltzing out of the store. She had a shopping bag on her arm and looked somewhat annoyed. She fixed me with an accusatory glare and for a moment, I thought she had seen my exchange with the gang members. Sora and I still hadn't wanted her to know about that part of our lives, so I went pale.

"Where have you _been_?" she demanded, eyeing the backpack on my back. "And where did you get that? Did you go buy it?"

"Uh . . . Yeah," I lied. "I bought it so I could smuggle some alcohol in. Namine always only has wine at her parties."

Kairi watched me for a long moment, before her face relaxed into a wicked grin. "Rox, you're a genius! We'll raid my parents' liquor cabinet as soon as we get back home!"

"Anything to piss Namine off, right?" was all I said before we both walked back in to H&M.

x-x-x

I stood staring at myself in the mirror in Kairi's bedroom, feeling somewhat badass. I was wearing a pair of tight skinny jeans colored black, a studded belt, and a white V-neck shirt that was slightly rumpled. I shrugged into my leather jacket, zippers jangling, and grinned at myself. The fangs looked awesome, and practically real. They didn't even protrude when my mouth was shut, either. I had put a bit of hair wax into my hair to make it look even more unruly and "bedheaded," and my bangs were falling across my face in a mysterious way. Kairi had also lined the insides of my lower eyelids with black eyeliner to make my blue eyes stand out even more, and I had switched my silver piercings out for tiny black studs. The spiked choker fastened around my neck completed the look with a certain "dangerous" pizazz. When I turned to walk across the room, my equally badass combat boots clunked against the carpet.

"You look awesome!" Sora said as he walked into the room, clasping his leather collar in the back. He was shirtless and wore a pair of leather pants, just as he said he was going to do. His boots laced all the way up to his knees, and quite frankly, he looked like a gothic Japanese rock singer.

He also looked absolutely ridiculous.

I burst out in laughter, but it quickly died off when Kairi walked into the room wearing nothing but her lingerie, platform leather stilettos, and cracking a dangerous-looking whip in my direction.

"Don't talk to my master like that," she warned mischievously. "Else I'll have to _punish _you."

Sora and I both shut up instantly, but not for long. Pretty soon, I had dissolved into laughter at the pair of them, and Sora was whining about how the only guy Kairi should ever have to _punish _was him. Kairi simply ignored him and stalked across the room to grab the leash they had purchased.

"I've decided to switch roles," Kairi announced. She waved the leash under Sora's nose. "I'm the master. You're the slave."

"Okay!" he said brightly, which only caused me to laugh again.

Sora was quite literally "whipped."

A little later, as Sora and I stood in the bathroom, watching Kairi carefully curl her long, crimson hair, the topic of conversation took a sharp turn.

"So . . . Whatever happened to your guys' friend? The girl who stopped talking to you?" Sora asked, yawning and stretching his arms. He looked from me to Kairi.

I let Kairi answer.

"Oh, nothing," she sighed, eyes focused on her hair in the mirror. I had to admit, it was extremely difficult not to stare at her ass. Her bottoms were specifically designed _not _to fully cover it, and though her top was more of a gauzy camisole lined with rhinestones, it didn't leave much to the imagination. She may have been my cousin's girlfriend and my best friend, but there was never any reason to deny how attractive Kairi was. Her feistiness only added to her charm.

"Nothing?" Sora asked, raising his eyebrows. "You didn't try talking to her?"

"Hah!" Kairi scoffed. "That's _all _I did, was try talking to her. She's been ignoring me for weeks. Now, all she ever does is hang all over her new _boyfriend_. What's-his-face."

"Riku," I supplied.

She looked at me and then rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I don't care about his name. All I care about is the fact that she never gave me a reason for anything. She just stopped talking to us for no reason."

Then, it slipped out. I couldn't help it, but it just came spilling out before I could stop it.

"I saw her recently," I blurted.

Sora and Kairi both looked at me in shock, each for different reasons. Kairi looked absolutely horrified (most likely with the fact that I hadn't told her) and Sora just looked curious. I gulped, feeling extremely guilty. I knew I should have told Kairi, but I had selfishly kept it to myself. As if Xion's and my meeting on the elementary school playground had been a dream and my dream alone.

"Well?" Kairi urged anxiously, setting her curling iron down on the countertop next to her rabbit ear headband. "What happened?"

"Oh?" I jumped. "Uh, nothing. We just . . . Talked."

Kairi gave me a deadpan look. "Really, Roxas? You just _talked_? _Okay."_ She definitely didn't believe me.

"No, I'm serious! We talked about stuff. She cried and whatnot, and that was it."

"Really?" She started to curl another section of hair, obviously agitated. "Then why didn't she call me? And why isn't she hanging out with us now?"

I grimaced. "I didn't say it went well, did I?"

There was a long second of silence before Kairi answered with a muted, "Oh."

Sora spoke up, "Wow, this girl must really be cool if she's got both of you all choked up."

Neither of us spoke, but I knew we were both thinking the same thing. It wasn't just about our lost friendship with her, but it was also about who Xion was. She was so sweet and beautiful and broken, all at the same time. She was the kind of person who had so many secrets, and yet, hid nothing at all. She had a way of making you want to be around her, talking to her all the time.

Maybe it was just me who thought all of this, though.

"It doesn't matter," Kairi finally said, having finished her hair. She gave it one last fluff before she smoothed cherry red lipstick onto her lips, put on her rabbit ears, and click-clacked her way out of the bathroom.

"Jeez," Sora said to me, standing up. "Xion must really be something."

"Yeah," I said softly. "She really is."

We looked at each other and I knew he understood. Sora's facial expression softened and he put a comforting hand on my shoulder. Then, he left the room.

I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like myself on the outside, but I could see it in my eyes . . .

Xion was going to ruin me, and I was powerless to stop it.

x-x-x


	14. Chapter 14

**NOTE: The song used in this chapter is called "Closer" by Anavae. I KNOW that there is a screamer and a male vocalist in that song in addition to Becca's vocals, but for thr purposes of this chapter, let's pretend that it is Becca's vocals only. Thnk you to all my readers and reviewers~ Without further adieu!**

**Chapter Twelve – Tricks and Treats, Part Two**

_Roxas's POV_

"What are you going to do if she's there tonight?"

I took my eyes off of the road for barely a minute to spare Kairi an alarmed glance. How had she guessed that I was secretly wondering if Xion was going to be there tonight? Damn redheads . . .

Kairi, who was sitting in the passenger's seat, turned to raise her eyebrows at me. She was obviously waiting for an answer.

"What are you talking about?" I feigned disinterest, tightening my hands on the wheel.

"Don't play dumb, Roxas." She jabbed me in the side hard enough to make me wince. "I know you're thinking Xion might be there. Hell, even _I _was hoping she'd be there."

I looked at her in surprise when we came to a halt at a stop sign. "You were?"

Sora leaned forward and poked his head out in-between our seats from his seat in the back.

"Of course she was," he said brightly. "That's all she ever talks about these days—Xion."

Kairi turned in her seat to fix him with a glare. Sora instantly closed his mouth and sat back in his seat.

"Yeah," Kairi growled, "that's what I _thought_, little boy."

I laughed at Sora in the rearview mirror, but it only earned me another sharp jab in the side. Then another. And another. Finally, I reached over to slap Kairi playfully on the leg. She smacked me on the side of the head and then before I knew it, we were all laughing.

"Seriously, though," Kairi said, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye after a moment. "Roxas . . . What are you going to do? What are _we _going to do?"

"I don't know," I sighed, turning on my blinker as I prepared to get onto the freeway and head for Namine's house. It was starting to get dark, which meant that the party would be starting soon.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Kairi demanded. "If she's there, I wanna have a plan. We deserve some answers and this would be the perfect time to finally get them!"

I glanced at her sidelong, wondering why and how Kairi could be so much more blind to a girl's feelings than I could. I mean, seriously, she was a woman herself and I was the male. Xion didn't _want_ to be confronted, otherwise she would have come to us by now. Either way, Kairi was right: we _did _deserve some answers. I just didn't think that Kairi's ways of obtaining them would be exactly . . . Right, I guess. And anyway, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I didn't know if Xion would even _be _at the party, let alone what I was going to say to her if she was. All I knew was that it was most likely going to be up to me to get her alone so I could talk to her.

"I'll handle it," I finally said after a long, charged silence.

"Huh?" Kairi looked crestfallen. "What do you mean?"

I didn't look at her. "I mean . . . I'll _handle_ it. I'll find her and take care of everything. So don't worry about it."

Kairi pouted, but unlike the time that I had said those same words to Xion, she complied instead of protesting. Kairi knew me well—if I said I would handle it, then that was the end of the story. It meant I would handle it.

"Just . . . Just be nice," she pouted, crossing her arms and glaring out the window. "I want her to want to come back to us eventually."

"Nice?" I glanced at her incredulously. "Of course I'll be nice! When have I ever not been nice to her?!"

Kairi scowled, "Well, you said that you made her cry last time you saw here, so I just thought—"

I exploded, "Whoa, whoa, _whoa_! What the actual _fuck_?! _I _made her cry?! When did I _ever _say that it was _my _fault she cried?"

Kairi turned to look me, obviously appalled by my angry outburst. Luckily, she was Kairi and she was one of the few who could handle my temper.

"In the bathroom! You said that you met up with her and she cried!" Kairi threw her hands up. "I don't know about _you_, Roxas, but when _I_ cry, it doesn't just spring up out of nowhere. Usually, someone has _caused_ the feelings that are making me want to cry. There_fore_, you must have made her cry."

I glowered at her, knowing she was probably right. It had _seemed_ like Xion was crying for no reason that night, but maybe it was me who had made her cry? I'm not exactly sure how or why, but maybe I had hurt her feelings in some way? Scared her? God forbid, hurt her? I gulped. I hoped not . . .

"Look," I said, considerably calmer. "Whatever. Don't _worry_ about it. I'll be nice and I'll find out what's been going on." Then I muttered under my breath, "Even if I have to corner her in a damn room somewhere . . ."

Kairi shot me a look. "Keep it in your pants, though," she warned. "We don't wanna freak her out."

I rolled my eyes but said nothing for the rest of the drive. Kairi and Sora fell into conversation, mostly talking about working at my parent's restaurant and what they thought they might do with the money they'd make. Of course, I made sure not to look at Sora. He and I both knew what we'd be using the money he made at my parents' restaurant for . . .

Fifteen or so minutes later, the sky had darkened to a dull midnight blue, and my car was parked at the end of the driveway of the monstrous mansion that belonged to Namine Lightle. Just looking at her house caused unpleasant memories to bubble up to the surface of my mind, almost making me feel physically ill. It nearly made me want to turn around and leave (why the Hell was I coming to this Hellhole again . . . ?).

"Hey! Dude, you gonna be okay?"

Sora's voice coming from outside the car snapped me to the present and I realized that I was still sitting in the driver's seat. I blinked up at him as if this were the first time we were laying eyes upon one another and shook my head. I was doing this for Xion. I had to talk to Xion.

"Oh, uh . . . Yeah." I gave him a quick grin. "Yeah, dude. Let's get in there."

I got out of the car, locked it up tight, and turned to face the inappropriately and ridiculously dressed couple. Sora was eyeing me with slight concern, but Kairi was smirking up at me. She had her novelty whip hanging over her shoulder and one hand on her hip, the look in her eyes smoldering.

"What?" I asked.

"You, that's what!" she snapped. "Don't get all sappy-mushy on me tonight, Roxas. We're here to party."

"And piss Namine off," Sora added cheerfully.

Kairi acknowledged him with a nod. "Yes, and that."

I shrugged. "Dude, lay off. I'm cool."

"You sure?" Kairi arched her eyebrow. "Because if you can't handle being around her or in her house, you might as well just leave. I don't wanna hear about any reconciliation or getting back together, ya hear?"

I waved a dismissive hand. Getting back together with Namine was the absolute _last _thing I was planning on doing, and it was retarded for Kairi to even _mention _such a thing. I was here for _Xion._

"Don't fucking worry," I grumbled in irritation, pushing past the two of them to where crowds of people were gathering on Namine's estate lawn. I heard them follow, easily falling into playful banter between the two. I did my best to tune them out—it was difficult enough pining after Xion, and I didn't want to have to hear Sora and Kairi being all "couple-like" all the time.

We entered the mansion, slipping past the bouncer's guest list with the use of Kairi's scantily-clad body and my charming smile, and stood in the entryway. We all three gazed around, looking for something to do. Around us, hundreds of people milled about, talking and laughing and dancing. Everyone had either a wine glass or red plastic cup in their hands, and the music was so loud that I wouldn't be surprised if it was causing the very drinks within said cups to vibrate. The song was some rap-dance tune—something I probably would hate if I ever gave it a chance—and it seemed to have brought the whore out in every girl in the general area.

"Ah, Halloween!" I heard Sora shout into my ear over the loudness. "America's excuse to see girls half-naked."

I rolled my eyes and didn't reply. I wasn't blind. The girls here were damn hot and I had classes with many of them (they definitely had been hiding some golden assets, let me tell you). It was just that I wasn't interested. I was here for one reason and one reason only: Xion.

"Hey, I'm gonna go walk around," I yelled to the two of them.

Kairi was dancing with her hand in her crimson hair, her body moving sensually to the rhythm as she did so. She merely threw me a wink, acknowledging the fact that I had spoken, and then turned her attentions to Sora. She smiled a wicked smile at him, curling her finger and walking backward into the mass of moving bodies.

Sora and I looked at each other.

"Dude, I gotta go," Sora said.

"Yeah, you'd better," I replied in a serious tone.

He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively at me and then danced off after his girlfriend.

I shook my head. Sora was such a dork.

Turning around, my eyes began to scan the vicinity. There were all sorts of people here, some of them from Midtown and some of them most likely from Central. Most people were dancing in the front living room that we had entered into, but there were a few small groups dancing and drinking in random places. As I moved deeper into the mansion, my feet following remembered paths, I saw that the dancing became less and less and the drinking became more and more. I moved into the kitchen, all the while searching for Xion but finding nothing more than illegally drunk high school kids.

I stepped gingerly around a couple that were drunkenly making out on the kitchen floor, heading for the sliding glass that led out to the backyard.

If I had thought the house was packed, the backyard was _definitely _full of people. There were speakers lining the mansion walls, pounding out the same music that was playing inside the house. I stood next to a table where a man in a suit was passing out drinks and searched the faces for Xion's.

"Well, well, well. Look who showed up?"

I winced at the sound of the annoyingly high-pitched voice of Namine's best friend. I wouldn't forget her in a million years and trust me: I hated her, too. I looked over my shoulder at her. She was wearing a yellow-and-black striped bikini, yellow pumps, fake wings made out of some sort of gauzy material, and a headband with antennae sticking out the top.

"What are you supposed to be, Selphie?" I asked. "A bumblebee?"

Selphie scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest. "Um, excuse me, but _no. _Bumblebees are fat. And hairy. And gross, ew." She stuck her nose up into the air. "For your _information_, I'm a hornet."

I shrugged and then flashed my most innocent smile. "Hm. Well, _I _couldn't tell the difference."

A flash of rage passed over her face as she realized I was calling her fat, but she didn't explode. Instead, she forced an obviously fake smile onto her face and tossed her shoulder-length hair over her shoulder.

"Well, Namine's down by the pool if you're here to see her," she said, pointing down the hill to the impressively large heated pool Namine's parents had installed. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go get everyone out here for the band performance."

"Band performance?" I asked.

Selphie just shook her head, distracted. "You'll see. I've gotta go. See you."

With that, she was off. Instead of wondering who was performing and feeling disgusted that Selphie had thought I was here for Namine of all people, I turned and headed down the hill to where I could see hundreds more kids hanging out. Some were sitting in giant groups, smoking weed and drinking. Some were playing in the pool, shoving each other in and playing the game of Chicken. Others were standing poolside, relaxed and drinking beer out of bottles. Still, I did not see Xion.

'_I guess she didn't end up coming,' _I thought, rubbing the back of my neck. I ran my tongue over my fake fangs, still shocked that they looked and felt so real, and turned to go check the upstairs of the mansion.

Just as I was about to go, however, I almost smacked right into Namine. I was forced to grab her by the upper arms to keep us both upright, and the look she gave me was extremely alarming. I let go of her quickly, as if she were on fire, and took two steps back. The girl was literally wearing nothing but a lacy rhinestone-studded bra and matching panties that barely covered her ass. Her incredibly thin, toned body only seemed to look taller, as she was wearing inches-tall platform wedge heels. From her back sprung a pair of incredibly realistic-looking angel wings that shimmered with sequins, only causing her long blonde hair to shine brighter.

"What even _are _you?" I asked, the words just tumbling out. I hated her, but I still loved her at the same time. She had done so many horrid things to me, ruined my life . . . And yet, seeing her like this still made me feel out of control of my senses.

"A Victoria's Secret Angel," she simply said.

"Oh," I mumbled.

Namine smiled a bright, cheery smile and (all while holding my gaze in an intentionally sexual manner) she raised her voice to get everyone's attention. The kids in the backyard went silent, including the kids on the grass and in the pool.

The blonde swiveled on her foot and faced them all.

"If I could get everyone's attention," she said sweetly, "there's going to be a _special _performance on the other side of the house, in the second backyard."

I heard the kids behind me whispering, "_She has a __**second**__ backyard?! How cool is this!_"

Namine continued, "Performance starts in ten minutes, so you'd better start heading over there if you want to be close to the stage."

Again, a boy behind me: "_She has her own __**stage**__?!"_

Everyone started to move back toward the house, their amiable chatter filling the night sky with the buzz of excitement. I started to go, too, but Namine had turned back around before I could do so. She started toward me, her long legs and shapely hips swinging. I backed away, trying my hardest not to look at the way she was biting her lip. Her baby blue eyes were endlessly deep, but I knew they masked miles upon miles of malevolence.

The sea was cold, but Namine's heart was colder.

Soon enough, my back was to one of the massive oak trees that were carefully planted in her yard and she was pressing her body up against mine. I gulped as she slid her hands up to my neck and smirked up at me.

"I'm _so _glad you decided to come," she murmured, her voice seeming quiet in the empty yard around us. By now, everyone was clamoring into the house, making their way to the other side of it.

"I didn't do it for you," I spat, grabbing her wrists and shoving her away from me. I glared at her in disgust. "I'm here for someone else."

She blinked up at me, her face the picture of innocence. "Don't be silly, Rox. You don't have to hide it anymore . . . I know you still love me. You still want to be with me. And while I admit, I think it's pretty pathetic—" She punctuated it with a derisive laugh. "—I also admire your devotion to me."

"You're delusional," I snarled. "Get the Hell away from me."

I tried to push past her, but she caught me by surprise by forcefully slamming me back against the tree. She hiked one leg around my hips and pressed a kiss to my lips that left no room for me to pull back. All at once, I was bombarded with feelings that I had been trying so hard for months to hold back. I couldn't help but let out a moan (I know, embarrassing. Maybe I really _was _pathetic.) and kiss her back. I grabbed her head and kissed her with all of the pent-up emotions that I had, as if her kiss could siphon away the pain. Our tongues danced a wicked dance, my heart pounding at a rate unfathomable. She laughed in an almost triumphant way and slipped her hands under my shirt. I shivered and grabbed her hair in one hand, letting the other slide down to cup her bottom . . .

Xion's face, broken and beautiful, flickered in front of my mind's eyes.

'_What the __**fuck**__ am I doing?'_

With a ferocious growl, I broke the kiss and pushed Namine away from me as hard as I could. Breathing heavily, I held her at arm's length. My head bowed, my hair falling across my face to shroud my eyes as I tried to collect myself. I was pissed. I was livid. I was _beside _myself. What an absolute witch. How _dare_ she? How _dare _she do this to me?!

"I said _stay _the _fuck _away from me!" I shouted, though she did nothing but smirk.

Namine's kiss-plumped lips curved upward into a delicately dangerous smile, and her cheeks flushed. She believed she had just proven a point. "I should be saying the same thing," she breathed.

"Oh, seriously fuck you, Namine," I cursed. I then shoved my way past her, practically running up to the house. My blood was on fire, pulsing through my veins with a vengeance. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I didn't _want _to believe it. Had I really just kissed Namine? And the way I had responded? I was sickened to the stomach of myself.

I was a pitiful excuse for a man, whimpering and allowing my old emotions to consume me. I should have slapped her across the face. I should have beaten her black and blue. I should have . . .

I squeezed my eyes shut, leaning against the wall of the house for support as I tried to calm myself. No, I would not harm a hair on her head. Violence upon women was never the answer, and I could never forgive myself if I physically hurt anyone, including Namine.

"_There _you are!"

My eyelids snapped open. I looked up and saw Kairi panting with exertion in the open sliding glass doorway. She obviously had to have been running about to be breathing so heavily. There was something on her face that told me this was serious, though. I briefly remembered Sora's relapse the other day and panicked a little bit.

"What, Kai?" I cried, alarmed. I gripped her by the shoulders. "What happened? Is Sora okay?!"

She gave me a brief look of confusion before she shook her head and said, "No! That's not it. I've been looking everywhere for you! We have to hurry, it's starting soon!"

She grabbed my hand and whisked me through the door, through the now empty kitchen and living rooms, down halls and all the way to the other side of the house. I kept asking her what the heck was going on, but she kept telling me, "You'll see. You'll see." By the time we exited out into the second backyard (which was more of a "garden and for-show" yard), I was thoroughly confused and irritated at having been dragged so far.

Kairi and I pushed our way through the massive crowd, heading toward the front where Sora was standing. Around us, kids were whispering and talking excitedly. Some were still drinking, but most were keyed up to see the performance. In front of all of us loomed a gargantuan stage that had obviously been put up in the recent months since I had broken up with Namine. I mean, this thing was amazing. It had the whole shebang: lights, speakers, instruments, microphones . . . Everything. In fact, the huge archway spanning the stage had lights hanging from it that were so bright right now, it was difficult to look at the stage for much longer than a few moments.

"What's going on?" I asked Sora, looking from him to Kairi.

Kairi answered by pointing off to the side of the rather large stage, to where a small group of maybe six or seven teenagers were. My heart stopped. I recognized a few of them, but the others had to have been from Central. But the three that I did recognize were as familiar to me as could be.

Tifa, Riku, and Xion.

My jaw dropped and I shot Kairi a look of absolute shock.

"Xion?" I gasped.

Kairi nodded. "Yep."

"The performance? She's . . . That's . . ."

"Yep. That's their band. Xion must be the lead singer, I'm guessing."

Sora spoke up, "I mean, I knew they had a band because I recognized that girl from Hot Topic—Paine. But I had _no _idea that Xion was the new lead singer they'd been talking about. I wonder if she's any good?"

I shot him a pointed look. "Trust me. She's good."

Sora frowned. "Well, then what's the big deal? Why are you guys so freaking surprised?"

"Don't you see what this _means_?!" Kairi shrieked over the sound of the crowd talking, causing the kids nearest us to eye us warily. The redhead ignored them. Instead, she grabbed Sora by the broad shoulders and shook him.

"No!" he cried, his voice vibrating with the force of her shaking. "I don't see what this means!"

"It means that Xion is _friends _with Namine!"

I went pale as a few more of my questions and thoughts clicked into place. Could it be true? Could Namine finally have befriended Xion? Is _that _why she had come on so strong by the pool? Because she and Xion had resolved their differences? Maybe struck up some sort of deal? My mind was whirling and I was so floored that I just wanted to take a seat.

My gaze slid over to where the band was standing. They were all smiling and laughing, obviously pumped for their upcoming performance. So this was why Xion had been so attached to Tifa and Riku's sides—they were in a band together. But that still left a few more questions. Questions like: were Namine and Xion truly friends? Were Riku and Namine dating? Were Tifa and Namine friends? Namine had to be friends with _someone_ in that band in order for them to have gotten a chance to have a concert at _her _Halloween party. It raised my suspicions even higher. Did Namine have some sort of greater, more sinister plan than I could ever hope to think of?

Just then, I was horrified to see Xion throw her arms around the neck of the silver-haired Riku. They kissed each other, him lifting her and spinning her around in a circle. He set her down again, cupping her cheek, and they talked intimately for a few seconds. I felt my stomach drop. Another suspicion come true. So Xion _was _dating him. Another reason why she had been ignoring us. I looked away, feeling very dejected.

Kairi placed a hand on my elbow. "Hey," she said gently, though still loudly enough for me to hear her. "Don't jump to any conclusions. I want to hear from _her _mouth why she abandoned us. Find her after the show and confront her."

I looked down into Kairi's hard, strong eyes and I nodded. She was right. I was letting my heart get in the way of my mind. Kairi had been affected by Xion's absence just as harshly as I, and she deserved an explanation for Xion's disappearance. We both did.

I was about to say something back to Kairi when all of the sudden, the lights dimmed (the sound and lights must have been controlled by a hired help in a place none of us could see) and the band clambered onto the stage. Everyone went silent as Namine appeared out of nowhere, resplendent on the stage in her angel outfit. Even though Xion had gone to the microphone, Namine grabbed it from the stand and put it to her lips. Knowing her as long as I had, I could tell she was _not _happy. Perhaps her and Xion _weren't _friends? Honestly speaking, I didn't think they ever _could _be friends—not since Namine believed that Xion had "stolen" her solo. I was starting to think that maybe Xion's fronting of this band had come as a shock to her as well.

"Welcome to my Halloween party, everyoneeeeee~!" she giggled into the microphone, her voice booming out of the speakers. "Are we all having fun tonight?!"

The crowd cheered and yelled in a positive way. People threw up their hands; some held up their drinks. Some girls were sitting atop different boys' shoulders in preparation for the concert that was about to take place. Apparently, people were excited.

"All right!" Namine gushed happily. "That's what I like to hear. So, in keeping with my _amazing _ability to throw an awesome party, I'd like to welcome some damn good music to the stage."

All-of-a-sudden, Tifa stepped forward and wrenched the microphone out of Namine's hands. She turned to face us in the audience, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She wore a (frankly) bad ass outfit of a leather dress that was strapless and hugged her body like second skin, combat boots that laced up to her knees, and her hair up in a messy ponytail. Her lips were painted blood-red and when she smiled, it was sinful.

"_Are you guys ready to rock?!_" she shouted into the microphone, punching a fist into the air.

The crowd went wild, cheering as if we were at the Super Bowl or some shit. Kairi, Sora, and I exchanged astonished glances.

Then, shit got even crazier and even Namine looked flabbergasted at what happened next.

Xion grabbed hold of the microphone and together, both her and Tifa screamed, "_We said, are you guys ready to __**rock**_**?!**"

The screaming was even_ louder_ this time, and I could swear the kids at this party thought they were at the coolest party they'd ever been to. I, however, was absolutely taken aback. I had never before heard Xion be so open and outgoing—I'd certainly never expected her to be in a rock band of all things. Me being a total metalhead, I was definitely interested to see how Xion was onstage. I had a feeling this was going to be the sexiest things I'd ever seen.

Ever.

I couldn't tear my eyes off of Xion. She was wearing the most revealing thing I'd seen her wear since the meeting at the elementary school: a pink-and white satin corset top and a pair of black leather short-shorts that were much shorter than anything I'd seen in a while. Her hair was longer now that I had the chance to actually _see _her—it was almost to her butt and she was wearing a cat ear headband colored pink and light brown. When she walked back over to the microphone stand to place the microphone onto it, I saw that she was barefoot which for some reason made her look enthralling to me.

Then, the lights went up and swiveled so that they threw the whole band into view but didn't blind the audience. The blonde girl on the keyboard played a little Mexican-sounding tune that lasted a few seconds and before we even knew that our heads were about to be rocked, Tifa and the girl from Hot Topic (Paine, also clad head-to-toe in a sexy leather outfit and combat boots) began to strum their guitars with an almost angry force.

"_Holy shit_!" I heard Kairi say before Xion launched into song.

"_T__here was a time when minutes were savoured and sought after, each second spent and addicted. Now minutes are a burden. And god forbid you'd spend them with me. Alone or with me."_

I couldn't shut my mouth. My jaw . . . It was dropped. Just positively _dropped_. Xion—my shy, fragile little Xion—was dancing around on stage, flipping her hair about in an _extremely _sexual way, and singing into the microphone as if it were her lover. She looked fucking _hot_ and her voice was so damn _sexy_. She had always had an extraordinarily good voice, but now? It was as if she had completely let go of all her inhibitions and was singing from the depths of her heart. Though the lyrics of the song were rather light, I could sense rawness in her voice. It was amazing. It was truly beautiful.

_"Don't say that you're too good for this. You made your choice and now you're stuck without a remedy or reason why you-" _Xion sang, gripping the mike with both hands. It was plain to see how much she was putting of herself into the song. She looked cute and adorable and she was totally into the song, one hundred percent._ "-Failed to keep yourself away. Don't say you're sorry 'cause no one wamts apologies from you."_

As the song progressed, I saw that Sora and Kairi didn't even give a fuck, and neither did the rest of the audience. They were jumping up and down, dancing and screaming and cheering and throwing their heads about, having an all-around insanely good time. There was no doubt the band was good, but Xion? Xion was definitely the star.

Of course, the band was pretty damn good, too. They all seemed to connect—they played on the same level. Each band member knew what the other was thinking, and the chemistry onstage was on point. The drummer was a spazz, like most drummers are, and the girl on the keyboard was incredibly likeable. Paine was a complete badass and she engaged the bassist Riku in what seemed like a silent battle of skills that was competitive but fun. Tifa and Xion were like lightning with one another, dancing around each other and performing back-to-back at times. Both of them liked to whip their heads back and forth, their black hair whirling about like flags. Xion even liked to put one foot up on an amp and bend down to sing into the closest audience member's faces. The teenagers just loved it, of course, and were all trying to get her to touch their hands.

The bridge came and it was all about Xion, the background music minimal. Her voice was clear and pure and strong, and I think it sent chills down every single audience members' body when she sang the words. And as she sang it, the strangest thing happened. I couldn't be sure, of course, but I could _swear _our eyes locked for the entire few moments that she sang the bridge. I could _swear _it. My eyes went wide, and I felt my heart fluttering wildly.

Was she singing . . . To _me_?

"_B__ut I can't see you. if I see you, I'd never leave. Never fucking leave. I can't do this anymore."_

And then, as she sang the last chorus, her foot up on the amp again, one hand on the mike and one held up in the air in front of her as if measuring the high notes she was hitting, I felt something within me change. It was if a light inside my head turned on, and something clicked itself into place. A wish. A hope. A dream. A goal.

This girl was strong. Stronger than any of us could ever imagine. I knew for a _fact _that she had seen more struggles in her life than we knew, and the fact that she could sing with everything she had in her, no holds barred . . . It was commendable, and incredibly attractive. I vowed right then that she would be mine—there was no way I was letting a girl like her get away.

" _D__on't say that you're too good for this. You made your choice and now you're stuck without a remedy or a reason why you fail to keep yourself away. Don't say you're sorry 'cause no one wants apologies from you. Don't say you're sorry 'cause no one wants apologies from you!"_

The crowd went absolutely insane, having just been rocked into the next millennium. Kairi was screaming, jumping up and down next to Sora, who was clapping and cheering as well. I clapped my hands together, shaking my head in impressed shock. _That _was a rock-and-roll performance.

After an encore performance of the song, as per request by the screaming teenagers, everyone dispersed to go back into the party. The club-slash-dance music began anew on the speakers, and the excessive drinking and partying started all over again. Next to me, Kairi was absolutely beside herself with excitement.

"That was _amazing, _you guys!" She threw her hands up into the air. "I mean, holy cow! I knew she sang, but nobody ever told me she had a voice like _that_! For God's sake, she's an absolute miracle of life!"

"Babe, calm down!" Sora laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. Then, he raised an eyebrow at me. "But yeah, dude, she's good. Did she sound like _that_ when you guys were practicing for the Winter concert?"

"That?" I said incredulously, pointing at the stage. "Um, no fucking way. I have _never _heard her sing like that. _That_ was fucking phenomenal, man."

"A-fucking-greed!" Sora exclaimed. Then, he smirked and leaned in so that Kairi couldn't hear (not that she was paying attention anyway, since she was talking animatedly with some other girl about how "_absolutely awesome_" Xion was). "And dude? Fuckin' A-plus. Xion is _hot_. Now I see why you're so hung up over her."

I shrugged. "What'd I tell you? Anyway . . ." I turned to look up on the stage, only to see to my dismay that the band had disappeared. I pouted. "Damn, she's gone."

"Well, you'd better go find her!" Kairi yelled, causing me to jump in surprise at the loudness of her voice.

"Eh?" I gasped as she came up close to me, jabbing me sternly in the chest.

"You had better find her and get some answers tonight, buddy, or else I'm going to kill you!" she warned. "I didn't dress like a hot, slutty rabbit for no reason—I better see some action, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I whimpered.

She turned her terrifying feistiness on her boyfriend, who paled and stood up straight immediately.

"And _you_—!" She poked him in the chest as well. "Don't think I'm not watching you! Xi may be the sexiest little thing from Japan, but _I _am your girlfriend, and only _I _know how to do that thing you like with my tongue. So watch yourself."

If Sora could have gone any paler from embarrassment, then he would have. Even I felt a little embarrassed, though I laughed at his plight anyway. All fun and jokes aside, I needed to go on the hunt for Xion again because this time I wasn't going to let her get away.

And so, without so much as a goodbye to Sora or Kairi, I set off to resume my search for the tantalizing little doll that had so successfully captured my fancies.

x-x-x

**A/N: Whoooo sorry for such a late update on this story, I was absorbed in updating Finding Hikari. Hehe! Anyway, see you soon for part three!**


	15. Chapter 15

**NOTE: Okay so this chapter has sexual content in it, beware! Secondly, thank you to all my readers and reviewers for giving this story a chance again! Onwardddd!**

**Chapter Twelve – Tricks and Treats, Part Three**

_Xion's POV_

I stood dutifully next to Riku, as any good girlfriend would, and kept my thoughts to myself. Even though I was uncomfortable with the amount of alcohol he and the other members of the band were drinking, I stayed quiet because I didn't want to anger him. Or any of them, for that matter. I even took a few sips off of Riku's beer to placate the raucous teens.

The whole band was standing around in Namine's kitchen, talking excitedly and optimistically about our future and promise in the music world. The other partygoers surrounded our group, dancing, laughing, drinking, talking, etcetera. Tifa and Rikku were rambunctious as usual, Paine was standing idly by and listening intently, Yuna was laughing and throwing random jokes into the conversation, and Riku and Tidus were the life of the whole group. Everyone was drinking and the air was somewhat electrically charged with the aftermath of our performance.

Truth was, not only did I hate the taste of alcohol, but I hated anything having to do with the foul substance. It only reminded me of my stepfather. It brought nothing but negative emotions to the surface. He hadn't always been an alcoholic, though. In fact, I could remember the exact moment when I'd realized that his drinking had gone from "excessive" to "alcoholism," and that things would never be the same after my mother's passing.

_The Summer was a hot one, no doubt about it. It was much hotter here in California than it had been in Korea. My mother had always loved the heat—perhaps that was the reason my stepfather had moved me away from my friends and family (not like my dad wanted me, anyway) and school to come to the Promised Land—America._

_ I was sitting in the middle of my bed, gazing around at the way the movers had arranged my things in my new bedroom. This room was much more spacious than the one I'd had before, and I had to say—it was nice having a bed on a frame, rather than a traditional futon. I could almost close my eyes and pretend I was floating on a cloud, high above the ground and far away from the reminders of my mother's death._

_ I heard a loud crash echoing in the hallway, and I jumped in alarm. What was __**that**__? With lightning speed, I hopped to my feet and pattered my way to the door. I yanked it open, worried that something had happened to my stepfather._

_ He was standing halfway down the grand hallway, surrounded by all of the expensive things being an esteemed lawyer had bought him. At his feet was a rapidly-spreading pool of whatever had been in the liquor bottle that was in smithereens around him. The pieces of brown glass looked sharp, and the realization that dawned upon me felt as if it were just as cutting as the shards. My cerulean eyes traveled slowly from the puddle of alcohol to my stepfather's rumpled clothes and shifty eyes._

_ "Are you drunk?" I asked in Korean._

_ "Xion," he said in a thick, emotion-filled voice. "Come here."_

_ I was about to go to him, as I normally would when my stepfather asked me to—after all, he was harmless and just as sad about my mother's death as I was—but something halted me in my tracks. Women's intuition, you could say. Something wasn't right in his eyes, and the way he kept agitatedly combing his fingers backward through his blonde hair was confusing me._

_ "Otoosan?" I asked in a wary voice. "Are you okay? Don't walk forward—there's too much glass."_

_ All-of-a-sudden, he had crossed the remaining distance between us and was standing naught but a foot away from me. Something definitely wasn't right about this situation—he never got this close to me when he was drinking. Never. What was going on?_

_ Out of instinctual reaction, I took a step back, into my bedroom._

_ He followed me._

_ "Xion," he whispered in a tone that sounded disturbingly intimate—not the kind of tone that a father should be using with his daughter._

_ "Wh-What?" I stammered, leaning away from him._

_ He reached up and brushed his knuckles down the side of my face in a much-too affectionate way. I felt my heartbeat flutter, fear pulsating throughout my veins. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get out of here. I didn't know why, but something was telling me I needed to be __**anywhere**__ but in this room._

_ "Do you know how much of your mother I see in you?"_

_ My eyes widened as his hand quickly moved from my cheek to my throat, wrapping around it tightly. My mind turned upside-down, almost unable to comprehend how fast the tables had turned. This was my stepfather—no, he was just as much a father to me as my birth father was—and he was all I had left. Now he was throttling me, shoving me backward onto my bed. Who was this man?_

_ As he placed drunken kisses all over my face, ignoring my shrieks and pleas for him to stop, I broke down. I started to sob uncontrollably, asking him why over and over again. I was trying desperately to push him off of me, terrified that he was going to hurt me or violate me, though my brain was barely registering that possibility. I couldn't believe this was happening—nothing like this had ever happened with my stepfather. He had never once touched me or looked at me in a sexual way. He had been wonderful. I loved him._

_ "Appa," I sobbed, "Please . . . Please, don't do this!"_

_ My pleas seemed to be soundless, for he continued to murmur my mother's name. He fondled my breasts through my nightshirt, batting my hands away when I tried to get him to stop. I squirmed and wriggled beneath him, scared out of my mind, and wanting nothing more than for this to stop. It was horrifying. It was like nothing I had ever expected would happen._

_ Finally, he drew himself back, hefting a slap across my face that caused me to see stars. I coughed, pain splitting my head in two. I turned my face away and screamed at him to stop, but it was no use. He kept slapping me, beating me about the head with an unexpected rage that burned intensely in his eyes. His teeth were bared in a snarl, and I squeezed my eyes shut—I couldn't bear to see this. He continued to rain blows down upon my face, so I threw up my arms to try and defend myself, terrified that he might go too far and kill me. I kicked my legs and bucked my hips, trying to get him to fall off of me, but he was much bigger and stronger than I. _

_ "F-Father . . ." I gasped as he wrapped his hand around my throat and squeezed as tightly as he could. My vision began to spin, mingling with the pain and the ache in my head, until I couldn't tell which part of me was more bruised. I clawed at his hand, my eyes rolling wildly in my head._

_ Then, as if it couldn't get any worse, his hand slipped below the waistband of my pants. I completely flipped out, weeping inconsolably and imploring him for mercy. I alternated between trying to push his hand away from my underpants and pulling at the fingers that gripped my tender neck. As a last ditch effort, I reached up and raked my fingernails across his cheek and nose with as much force as I could muster, though I couldn't breathe. My lungs were burning, and I just wanted it all to stop. I felt as though I were having a nightmare, and that I might wake up in my bed in a cold sweat._

_ "You bitch . . . !" He snarled in Korean, enraged at my having scratched him. _

_ I immediately regretted fighting back. Immediately._

_ A soundless scream escaped me as I felt him shove his fingers deep into my body, stretching me where I had never been touched before. It hurt so bad . . . It hurt so __**bad**_**. **_Why did it have to hurt so badly? Oh, God, why was this happening? I continued to kick and beg and cry and hit him, but he just kept yelling at me to "Shut up!"_

_ He yanked his hand out of me and left the room, leaving me to curl up in the fetal position. I couldn't catch my breath; I was hyperventilating, I was crying so hard. My entire body felt as if it was experiencing terrible agony, and I knew I was bleeding from more than just a few places, including my lower body. I began to quiver and shake, sobbing my mother's name into my pillow until I drifted off to sleep with the scent of blood, alcohol, and shame in my nostrils._

My memories of the first molestation were vivid—as if I were watching a movie play out right before my eyes. As if I was still there, three months ago, screaming and crying and pleading for my life as the one person I had left to trust took that trust and abused it to the utmost degree.

I just wish I would have known how bad it was going to end up. Maybe then I could have found a way to save myself and my virtue.

I hadn't seen my stepfather in a week now, having chosen to ignore all of his calls, texts, and voicemails in favor of sleeping over at Tifa's every night (except for the night we had gone to Zack's). I wished I could say that I was doing it to rebel against my stepfather, but alas, I could not. I was scared, to put it bluntly, and the longer I stayed away, the more I feared the outcome of this entire situation.

"Hey, you," Riku murmured into my ear, turning us to face away from the group.

"Hm?" I mumbled absentmindedly.

"You don't look like you're having too much fun . . ." he said, slipping his arm around my shoulders. "You did a great job tonight—everyone's really proud."

I offered him a weak smile, finding that reminiscing had given me a bit of an ill feeling in my stomach. "I am having fun," I assured him. "I'm just a little bit tired."

Something in his eyes changed and he pulled me even closer, grabbing my chin and tilting my face up to his. I couldn't resist melting into the kiss he gave me, allowing my mind to come back to the present and suppress my horrid memories. I tried my best to hold in a moan that wanted to let itself be heard, and instead, pulled away reluctantly.

"Why don't you go upstairs and find a room to rest in?" he suggested in a somewhat pointed tone, eyebrows raised high. "I'll meet you up there in a couple minutes, okay? I just want to have a few more drinks with Tidus."

I felt my stomach drop. What did he think was going to happen? I wanted to tell him no, but everyone was watching us, especially Tifa. Not to mention, I didn't want to lose Riku. We had only been dating a short time, but I knew I didn't want to disappoint him, or for him to think I was a loser. I wanted him to find me worthy. I didn't know exactly what he wanted to do in that room, but I knew I had better just do as he said.

"O-Okay," I mumbled shyly. He kissed me again, tilting his head to deepen it and sending fireworks off in my body. When we pulled away, he was smirking and his aquamarine eyes were twinkling.

"Here," I heard Tifa say from beside us.

I tore my eyes off of Riku's beautiful face and looked at her. Everyone else seemed to have vanished from the area of the party that we were hanging out at, probably having gone off to dance and mingle. Tifa had stayed, however, and was holding out a plastic red cup to me with knowing smile on her face.

I smiled at her. "What's this for?"

"Luck," she grinned, wriggling her eyebrows from me to Riku and back again.

So I took the drink from her, feeling the bitter alcohol burn my throat on its way down. I took a few large gulps, finding that I might as well just throw caution to the wind and drink the whole damn cup.

"Hey, slow down there!" Riku laughed, trying to grab the drink from me.

Feeling a bit playful, I swerved away from both of them and smirked mischievously over the rim of it to them. It tasted awful, but since I hadn't eaten in days, I was already feeling tipsy from the drinks I had sipped off of earlier. Gulping down another huge cup full of beer wasn't helping me, either. I tilted my head back and downed the entire thing, pulling a face of distaste once it was empty. Crumpling up the cup, I tossed it into the trash.

"See you up there," Riku said as I left the room and headed for the hallway.

Goodness, what was I getting myself into?

x-x-x

_Roxas's POV_

I pushed my way through the over-crowded hallways and dancing, drunken teenagers, my eyes searching wildly about for any sign of Xion. I'd been looking for her for an hour downstairs and still hadn't found her. I was beginning to think of her as a master of invisibility. I kept searching, though. I needed to see her and talk to her. I needed to find out all the why's and why not's.

Finally, I gave up searching downstairs and decided to go up to the second floor and continue searching up there. It was less-crowded up there, however the only downfall was the fact that I was going to be opening doors to rooms that probably had people having sex in them. I wasn't opposed to having sex, of course, I just didn't want to see other people doing it.

Agitatedly running my tongue over my fangs (I was still in costume, you see), I headed up to the first room on the left. I knew my way around this mansion like I knew the back of my hand. If Xion was up here, I would definitely find her. And find her, I did, after a long search and in the last place I expected her to be.

When I poked my head into Namine's room, the first thing I noticed was the scent of cigarette smoke. Upon further inspection, I saw that the window was wide open and the sounds of the music were floating in from the backyard. Xion was sitting cross-legged on the cushioned window seat, elbows on the windowsill, and holding a cigarette up to her mouth. She hadn't yet noticed me, so I took the chance to step in and gently close the door behind me.

I wanted to say something, but no words would come. For all the pretenses I put up, I wasn't as confident as I seemed. I was alone with Xion in my ex-girlfriend's bedrom, and Xion was the girl I liked—severely, mind you. As soon as I shut that door, my heart started to pound and my veins set themselves aflame. The room was on the darker side, the only light being that of the moon's glow. It cast a sort of pale illumination across Xion's face, only adding to the beauty that I saw in her. I wondered if she saw that same beauty . . . ?

She suddenly turned her head and saw me, her eyes widening in shock. "Roxas?" she said to me in Korean. "I didn't think that you would be here."

I awkwardly rubbed the back of my neck, my nervous trait, and shrugged. "I guess you didn't see me out in the audience. I was with Kairi and Sora. You . . . You did pretty good."

She merely nodded, offering me a weak smile. "Th-Thank you." She turned back to the window, inhaling off of the cigarette and blowing it out into the night air.

I took a few strides across the room, stopping by Namine's dresser. There, I saw a half-empty carton of cigarettes and a lighter, and I put two-and-two together. I couldn't help but smirk.

"It isn't nice to steal," I murmured to her, coming to sit beside her on the seat, facing the open window as well. We were both half-turned toward one another, our knees barely inches away from each other. I felt as if there were electrons or atoms or neutrons or some sort of scientific shit like that flowing between us. I longed to grab her and kiss the living daylights out of her. Maybe do even more . . .

Erasing the thought from my mind, I blinked and gazed out at the teenagers partying down by the pool.

"This is her debt to me, repaid," Xion joked lightly. As if to punctuate her words, more cigarette smoke curled lazily upward.

I chuckled. "Yeah, well . . . I guess you could say that she owes a lot of people way more than just a stolen cigarette."

She smiled, but didn't say anything.

We sat in silence for a bit, both of us looking out the window. I was watching the kids down below, but when I stared at Xion sidelong, she was gazing up into the starry sky. I found that I couldn't look away. In that moment, I could see past the youthful beauty and what I saw, I did not like. She looked irreparably damaged, beyond tired. It appeared to me that she was a girl who had been to Hell and back, and she was carrying the weight of it on her shoulders. She just didn't want to tell anyone about it. Funny how I was making such an inference about her without any proof. Perhaps it was the connection I believed we had.

Was it possible that I was seeing past her careful façade, and this was a rare moment where her walls were down? Like when we were at the park, and I had held her while she cried? At first, I had felt panicked. If you recall, I wasn't very good with emotional women. But when she had broken down, my body had known immediately what to do. No, my heart had known. My heart had known that I cared for her, and it didn't like to hear her in pain.

But this wasn't the time for me to be exploring my feelings for her. Who knew how long I had with her in this room before she freaked out and ran away (like she usually did)? Right now, I was supposed to be getting some answers for Kairi's sake. Kairi's _and _mine.

"Xion," I said slowly, watching myself fiddle with the hem of my shirt in my lap.

"Hm?" she responded.

"I . . . We need to have a talk," I breathed out, feeling extremely nervous.

She had been about to take another hit off of her cigarette, but now she turned to look at me with her brow furrowed in confusion. She also tossed a glance towards the door, as if looking for an escape route.

"About what?" she responded.

I softly bit my bottom lip and looked over at her through my bangs. I tried my best puppy-dog eyes look, so she would know I wasn't on the offense.

"Can you . . . Can you _please _tell me why you stopped hanging out with Kairi and I?" I asked sincerely. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, honest. I just think that we deserve an explanation. We are—were—your friends."

She quickly looked away and brought her hand to her lips, the cigarette shaking as she took a hasty drag.

"It's not like it's easy, you know," she said.

"What isn't easy?"

Another drag. "All of it. Everything. My life." Her hands were shaking visibly now, and I just wanted to hold them and tell her everything would be okay. I didn't really know what I would be consoling her about, since I was the one who had been hurt, but I wanted to comfort her anyway.

Once again, she put her lips to the cigarette, casting a furtive glance behind us at the bedroom door. "There's like, a lot of shit about me that you can't know. Stuff that I don't want anybody to know."

I closed my eyes and replied, "I told you that I wanted to know you, Xi. I was serious. I don't care if you have a past; we've all made mistakes. I accept you no matter what."

"It's not _my_ mistakes that are in my past," she whispered, taking yet _another _drag. She began to cough and hack, so I reached over and grabbed the cigarette from her. I took a hit off of it myself, feeling the hot smoke sear my lungs and come out my nostrils in a quick rush. Then, I ground it out on the wooden sill.

"Xion," I said firmly, putting as much authority in my voice as I possibly could. She looked at me, all the guilt of the world in her sad blue eyes. "If someone has hurt you—or is still hurting you—I would still accept you. Other people's mistakes don't define you, okay?"

She turned her face back out to the moon, but not before I saw her eyes fill with tears.

"Stop," she whispered.

I frowned. "What?"

"Just stop." She hung her head. "You don't know anything about my life. I try like, _so _hard. I'm trying to be happy, but I don't know how." She gestured to the stars. "The stars, they won't let me."

I tried to work through her shadowed words, finally understanding. She believed that the universe was against her, to put it simply. My frown deepened. I saw much of myself in her: I often found myself hating myself for mistakes that weren't even my own. Now I knew for sure that something was going on with her beyond what the outside world saw.

I saw her look at the door again. What the heck did she keep doing that for?

Suddenly, she leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes, and placed a hand to her head.

"What's the matter?" I said. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Maybe I drank too much," she said. "I'm okay."

I sighed. "You didn't answer my question, _dongsaeng_. I have to have a reason. Kairi has to have a reason. She thinks she did something wrong, that you hate her."

_"Anio!"_ Xion cried, grabbing my hands so tightly that her knuckles were going white. Her eyes were tearful and beseeching. "Please, tell her not to think that! It's not her fault—it's totally mine. I don't hate her."

"Well, then why? Why won't you talk to us? Why do you always run away from me and avoid me?"

We looked at each other for a long moment, each with different expressions. Mine was one of hope; hope that I would finally get the answers to the questions Kairi and I had been dwelling on for weeks. Hers was one of despair and confinement—as if she were truly trapped.

She gave the tiniest shake of her head, and then looked at the door again, and I snapped.

"Fine!" I shouted, throwing my hands up and getting to my feet. "If you want to keep hiding things and stop being our friends for good, do what you want. We're done waiting for you. _I'm _done waiting for you." I was speaking out of anger, my notorious temper flaring, but I couldn't stop the words from spilling out. She was just staring at me in disbelief. I was seeing red.

I went on nastily, "You victimize yourself so much, and you don't even see it. You act like you just want attention, and you want everyone to fall at your feet and 'understand' when you make decisions that hurt other people. I don't care what the fuck you do, but I'm not gonna let you hurt Kairi anymore. So I'm not gonna talk to you anymore, and neither is she. We're done. I'm fucking done with you."

I stormed out of the room, wanting nothing more than to just get the Hell out of there. I was sick of trying with her. Trying to get her to take me back. Trying to get answers out of her. Kairi was putting herself in vast amounts of pain for nothing. And so was I. Xion hadn't even had to say anything. She wasn't going to give me _any_ answers. She just wanted to be able to say, "mind your own business," and think that we would take it lying down. Well, fuck to the no.

It was going to be hard, but I was just going to have to wipe her from my mind.

I was stomping past the kitchen, feeling angrier and more hurt than I had since breaking up with Namine, when I happened to catch the end of a most curious conversation.

". . . Don't forget the end goal in this. We signed up for this, and we're in for the long haul. Don't get soft on me."

"But everything's different now. I don't know if I—"

"Do you like him or not?"

Silence. And then, "Well, yeah."

"And I like Namine. We both stand to gain from this. So don't forget about the prize, okay?"

I hid myself around the wall and peeked around it. It was Tifa and Riku, and the way they were talking was awfully suspicious. Who was the prize? What did they each stand to gain? What had they signed up for? Did this have anything to do with Xion? I clenched my fists at my sides and listened to the last couple of words from Tifa.

". . . I won't."

With that, Riku gave her a smirk and a nod, downed the rest of his beer, and started to head toward me. I hurried away, melting into the crowd so that he didn't see me. He paused for a moment and looked in my direction, eyes narrowed as if he had seen me. Thankfully, though, he just shook his head and moved to the stairway to go up. I thought about going after him, but I stopped myself. There was no way to know if he and Tifa had been discussing Xion, and even if they had been, it wasn't my business anymore. I wasn't usually the most forgiving of people (i.e. the Namine situation), so if Riku and Tifa really were planning on doing something to Xion, she was going to have to deal with it by herself. Served her right for leaving her true friends behind.

I found Kairi and Sora out front, chatting with another couple on the grass. Sora took one look at my face and knew that it was time to go. They said goodbye, and then the three of us headed for my car.

Kairi took off her heels and walked in-between us, barefoot and swaying slightly from the alcohol in her system.

"So did you find her?" she asked me.

"Yeah," I said shortly.

"And . . . ?" Kairi said.

I didn't say anything, angrily jamming the car keys into the lock on the door. As we all climbed into the car, I could tell that Kairi and Sora were extremely worried. I sped off down the road, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that it hurt. I was fighting back my rage, hating myself for opening up my emotions to that girl. _This _was why I had broken up with Namine. Girls made me into a different person—a weak, pathetic fool who would cry over them.

"Roxas," Kairi finally said, wiping away a stray tear from my cheek. "I'm sorry."

We pulled up to a stop light, and I clenched my teeth. I was trembling, trying so hard to keep myself from breaking down. I was mortified—I had never _ever _thought that I would get like this over a girl again. I hadn't _wanted_ to. Fuck, this was infuriating.

"She isn't worth it," Sora said softly from the backseat, leaning forward to pat my shoulder comfortingly. "She just isn't worth being sad over."

The light turned green, and I was forced to focus and start driving again. I was grateful for Kairi and Sora, but there was no denying it. Xion had gotten so far underneath my skin that she had found a comfortable berth. There was no way I was going to be able to get through this easily.

The stars twinkled up above, whispering Xion's name to me in a melancholy mantra of the lost innocence of youth. The moon hovered in the night sky, shedding light upon my sorrow and reminding me that there _was_ no true measure of worth. Xion had worth because _I _saw it within her. She was worthy to _me_, and that was why I was sad.

_She was worthy to_ _me._

x-x-x

**A/N: Okay so here is where the story takes a different turn that when I had it up on the site before. After this chapter, you will have BRAND NEW chapters with BRAND NEW content. There will also possibly be a title change. Until then, my beloved readers!**


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